


Put your arms around me (stay away from me)

by 10vesick



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Spies & Secret Agents, Blood and Violence, Enemies to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Getting to Know Each Other, Gun Violence, Hate to Love, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Spies & Secret Agents, Undercover Missions, Undercover as a Couple, also, at some point, at some point too, everyone is mostly mentioned or have very small appereances tbh this is all yuten, uhhhh what else
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-07
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:35:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23054833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10vesick/pseuds/10vesick
Summary: Yuta is reckless, spontaneous, indiscreet and witty. Ten is meticulous, diligent, methodical and a perfectionist.What happens when you put these two different agents together in order to solve the biggest money laundering case? Will they be able to put their differences aside to save the mission?
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 22
Kudos: 202
Collections: the eyes are the window to the soul





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sunflowerhsh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerhsh/gifts).



> hello everyone and welcome ! this is one of the two lengthy commissions i've been working on these past few months, finally done and ready to serve! thank you so much to [my baby](https://twitter.com/HSunHyuk) for commissioning me and for being so patient!!! it's truly been amazing to be able to write this and learn a lot about this kind of universe haha. 
> 
> please do have in mind i don't know much about secret agents and agencies, hacking, and being undercover 🤡 but i did my best and i hope you enjoy.
> 
> without further ado, let's go !!!!

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Kun rolls his eyes, deciding it’s best for him to ignore the tone with which he’s just been talked to. He knew this wasn’t going to be easy for Yuta to hear, but desperate times need desperate measures. “I’m afraid I’m not.” 

“Kun,” Yuta blurts out, sounding like he’s just been insulted. “You can’t do this to me.”

The younger sighs. “These are direct orders from above. They… think you may need help, since you haven’t been able to solve this case alone.”

“I’m not alone, I have a team. Taeyong and I have been working on this case for over a year. You can’t just take it away from us.”

“It’s not being taken away from you, Yuta. It’s a big case– the biggest we’ve had so far. You need a _big_ team, with big ideas, and we’ve chosen one. End of discussion,” Kun gives him a warning look, and then presses a button on the phone next to him. “Tell him to come in, please.”

Yuta can’t believe this is seriously happening.

He’s one of the best agents in this agency. By going from busting underage kids at the local pub to investigating things like robberies, shootings, and so on, Yuta had quickly made himself a name in the field. When he’d been informed that he, of all people, was in charge of going after one of the biggest ring leaders on this side of the continent, he’d been ecstatic. No one has ever found as much intel as he has, no one has ever been as close to getting him as he has. 

He’s so close to solving it, because he’s one of the best agents in this agency.

Unfortunately for him, he’s not the only one.

As soon as there’s a knock on the door, Kun responds. “Please, come in.”

Yuta can practically feel his eyes rolling into his skull. The hundred thousand words senior officers have told him throughout his 5 years on this agency start running through his mind, pricking at him like tiny daggers on his ego. _Stop being so reckless and indiscreet. You should learn from him._

Steady steps walk into the room, and Li Yongqin sits down next to him the way Yuta thinks of him– uptight and prideful.

The annoyingly perfect Ten.

He is, essentially, what many would call a model agent. Always being far more praised by the senior officers for being meticulous, diligent, a methodical thinker. Easier to work with.

Yuta gives him that, alright, but that doesn’t take away the fact that this is the same proud prick with whom he’d worked with 3 years ago, on a case that had _not_ gone well. Yuta will never forget Ten’s worked up face as he told their Sergeant, very explicitly, that there was _no way in Hell he would ever go on another mission with some reckless asshole who couldn’t solve a case even if the culprit showed up in cuffs with a written confession_.

Yuta shifts in his seat, annoyed, as Kun hands manila colored folders to the two of them. His mood lightens up a little as he reads through the documents, a little too proud of all the information he has in his hands. He and his team were the ones to discover all of this, after all.

Kun runs Ten through the case so far.

“So, as you know, the mission is to infiltrate a resort we believe to be a money-laundering business, the biggest we’ve seen so far. We believe that _The Boss,_ the ring leader we’ve been after for over a year now, is heading the operation,” Kun says. “We’re hoping to get enough evidence to bring the resort down. I want to know where the money really comes from, how much, if there’s anything we aren’t seeing. It’s on you to gather said information. Our priority is to uncover the money-laundering, but stay on the lookout for The Boss. If he’s around, I want to know, too. Everything you need to know about him and what information Yuta has gathered so far is in those files you have. You’ll have tonight to go over them and learn everything, because you two will be leaving tomorrow. Understood?”

Yuta tries to argue again but, with a stern stare from Kun, he’s silenced.

Ten closes the folder with a quick movement “Yes, sir,” he replies, like a robot, and proceeds to stand up and leave without another word.

He doesn’t even spare Yuta a glance.

* * *

Ten takes off his glasses. 

He’s standing in the middle of the parking lot of a rather large, extravagant building, far too ornate for being in this small road on the outskirts of Seoul.

The vacation resort before him is huge, greek-style archeology standing tall. The building itself appears to be made of marble, but Ten knows it’s simply a look-alike material. The entrance has an elegant arch with an intricate pattern carved into it, beautiful statues lining the outer walls on each side. He wonders how much money it must’ve cost to build something like this— and how much time will it take for him to bring it down to its foundations.

His phone buzzes inside his pocket and Ten pulls it out, expecting it to be Yuta saying he’s checked in and roaming inside.

Instead, the text reads, _hey i’m running late lol. tell me if u see anything_

Ten rolls his eyes, but he’s not really surprised— and he definitely won’t be waiting for him.

The operation’s quite simple– each of them will go undercover as guests at the resort, just regular folks looking to have some regular vacation, much like the rest of the people that go there. They’ll attend events, recreational activities, talk to people, and try to gather as much information as possible. Especially anything that could help finally catch The Boss, the ring leader no one has ever even _seen_ in the two years he’s been active.

_Easy_.

Ten thinks he could’ve had it solved by now had he been given this case from the start. Because even though he recognizes Yuta isn’t a bad agent, not really, there are certain things Ten would’ve done differently. Effectively.

But that doesn’t matter now, because he’s here, and he’s gonna do what should’ve been done from the start, over a year ago.

At least he doesn’t _actually_ have to work hand in hand with Nakamoto Yuta.

He could never bear that.

* * *

It’s not that he hates Yuta, not really.

He just strongly dislikes him.

The last time they worked together, Yuta’s recklessness had not only cost Ten the case, but also a promotion and a whole awful lot of pride. Their Sergeant had loudly expressed her disappointment in them, and while Yuta walked away that time with nothing but a shrug, Ten had felt his honor injured and spat on.

That still remains the only case, in his entire career, that was left unsolved.

But Ten didn’t let that setback define him. He went up from there. The promotion that was shamefully denied to him then, was given to him not too long after. He proved his skills, proved his worth, and in no time he’d managed to get his own team, one that followed his orders, and he regained the respect of his Sergeant and other senior officers.

And he did that on his own.

He doesn’t deny that Yuta’s a good agent. His cases have been solved as well— most of them, at least. He’s a quick thinker, very creative, and his wit and charm prove to be useful when he has to gather intel from others. But that doesn’t take away the fact that he’s so reckless and indiscreet, it often ends up getting his team in trouble. Ten has lost count of how many times he’s walked past Kun’s office and heard him yell at Yuta for acting out of the plan, following instincts that could have gotten him caught– or worse, killed.

Which none of them has, but they’re still too much of a risk to take.

Ten thinks of this as he makes his way to the bar he saw on the first floor.

He’s checked in and left his luggage inside his room, all the way up to the fourth floor, and he decides to walk around to get to meet his surroundings. The interior of the resort is as equally grand as the outside; the columns are made of the same marble-like material, the wallpaper adorned with a classy beige colored pattern that keeps the corridors alive. The lights are sheathed in dazzling crystalline covers, mahogany floors accentuating his steps as he makes his way down.

Once he’s at the bar, Ten sits on the nearest stool at the counter, where only one other man sits on the opposite side of him. Ten asks the bartender for a beer— if he’s gonna have to wait for Yuta to show up so they can go over their assigned schedules (so they cover as much territory as possible and not run into each other), he knows he’s gonna need a drink to put up with that.

The bartender hands him an ice-cold glass of golden-colored liquid, and as he moves onto the other customer sitting a few feet away from him, Ten notices both shooting him a quick glance. The man at the stool shakes his head ever so slightly, and when they talk, they do so in whispers.

Weird.

Ten pulls out his phone to seem distracted, but all of his attention is on what he’s hearing. Even if it’s not much, he makes out a few words. _Heavy. Port._

_Boss._

The sound of a notification going off on his phone startles him, making him nearly knock over his beer. Ten doesn’t dare to look at the men next to him, but they’ve stopped talking after the sound.

Yuta’s words on his screen make his blood boil.

Y: _im at the entrance of the bar. im going to u_

Ten does his best not to look back at him as he types back an answer.

T: _Not now, I’m onto something. And we can’t be seen together._

Y: _they’re suspecting u_

Ten raises his sight from his phone to take a quick glance at the men at the other side of the bar. Yuta’s right– they’re quiet and looking at him, and Ten places an unconscious hand at the gun on his belt.

Y: _one whiff of anything fishy and the whole operation is shut down. the boss gone with the wind. do you really want that?_

T: _Stay in your position, Nakamoto._

Y: _ur not my fucking boss_

Ten really wants to kill him.

He rarely loses his temper, taking pride in his ability to keep a cool head at times like these, especially when working with people other than his teammates. He takes a deep breath, counts to five, and starts typing back a heated response, about how _No, I’m not your boss, but I was assigned to this case especially because you couldn’t solve it on your own, so maybe you could take advice from me and stay on your fucking position when I ask you to–_

But he doesn’t get to hit send, because suddenly there’s a loud voice yelling “ _Baby_!” and a pair of hands cradling his face.

This is a monumentally bad idea.

Yuta realizes this in the fraction of a second between reaching out and pulling Ten’s face towards his own, as his eyes briefly widen before their lips meet.

It’s not a long kiss, but it’s enough to distract the men at the bar, who clear their throats and stare at each other with a strange look of what seems to be relief 

It’s not a long kiss, but Ten can practically feel his soul leave his body.

“I’m sorry, were you waiting long?” Yuta beams once he pulls away, a smile that flashes all of his teeth adorning his face.

Ten takes a second to answer, anger boiling at the pit of his stomach. Yuta’s grip on him tightens, like he’s demanding an answer, and it makes the younger remember of the audience they have behind them.

He decides he can postpone Yuta’s murder, at least a few minutes.

Ten tries to smile despite the burning feeling on his gut. “No, I just got here. I’ve been waiting for you. 

Yuta clasps his hands in front of him, like asking for an apology. “Sorry, sorry. Had a little trouble bringing our luggage out of the car,” he gestures somewhere behind him, and Ten notices at least three suitcases dropped near the entrance of the bar. _Are those all his?!_ “I just checked in, ready to go see our room?”

Ten purses his lips and nods, fearing that if he says anything else, he’ll really snap at Yuta this time. The older reaches out to grab his hand and intertwines their fingers, the smile on his face never quivering nor fading. _How can this bastard be such a good actor?_ Ten thinks as he gets down from the stool and they get ready to leave, but one of the men behind them calls out for them. 

“Excuse me,” the bartender says.

Every hair on Ten’s body stands as they both turn around, hands still holding, breaths held.

“A sincere apology for the inconvenience,” the man says, and neither know what is he talking about. “Allow me to call a bellboy to help you bring your luggage upstairs.”

“O-Oh,” Yuta lets out a shaky laugh, and it’s the first time Ten sees he’s nervous. “Thank you very much! We would love that!”

The bartender smiles a smile that gives them both chills, and then he reaches out for the phone, probably to call for someone at the lobby. Ten notices the other man, the one who’d been sitting, is no longer there, and he curses at the loss of information.

In no time, a uniformed young man enters the bar, offering Ten and Yuta an apology and asking about their room so he can walk them there. They thank him, then the bartender, and soon enough they are following the bellboy into an elevator and up four floors. The ride isn’t nearly as fun as they make it seem with their act– holding onto each other’s hands and sharing smiles worthy of two teenagers in love. Yuta even dares to sneak a kiss on Ten’s template when the bellboy gives them a small look.

He smiles a little, but doesn’t say anything. 

They arrive at Yuta’s room after a few more seconds, and the man guides them at the end of the hall. He hands back their (Yuta’s) luggage, wishes them a happy stay, and leaves after a polite bow. Both men wait until he’s rounded the corner and, once he’s out of their sights, Yuta finally unlocks the door with the key card.

He gets pushed inside, and Ten slams the door behind him.

“What the _FUCK_ were you thinking?” he yells out, nose scrunching. “I said stay in your position! I was onto valuable information!”

Yuta would laugh, really, not too intimidated by someone who looks like an angry kitten, but the way he’s being spoken to makes him frown. “You weren’t paying attention, Ten, those men were ready to beat the shit out of you for eavesdropping. You needed my help.”

He might be right, Ten knows that. But like hell will he ever admit that.

“Oh, thank you, you saved me!” he says sarcastically. “But I don’t need a babysitter. If I’d been caught, I would’ve come up with something on the spot. Do you have any idea what you just did? You doomed us _both._ ”

Yuta frowns. “What does that mean?”

Ten looks like he wants to choke him. “The bartender. The people at the bar. The bellboy. Everyone we passed on our way to this room,” he counts with his fingers, like Yuta’s too dumb to keep up with words alone. “To them we’re a couple now, and like a couple we’re gonna have to act if we don’t want to get suspected of. _Again_ , apparently.”

And, fuck, he’s right.

Yuta had _not_ thought about this, and Ten knows. He barely thinks about the consequences of his actions, which is what usually gets in the way of his cases. He’s lucky he has Ten– the younger has already started to come up with a plan, wheels in his brain turning as Yuta simply stares at him. Both stand silently in the middle of the room, thinking of what to do next.

Ten eyes the room around him.

There’s a king-sized bed at the center of the room (a whim the agency had granted Yuta when booking their rooms), a small table on either side of it, and a long, navy blue chesterfield sofa at the corner near the door. 

This will work.

“We’re gonna have to share the room,” Ten states after a few minutes. “If we’re seen on different ones, it’ll bring attention to us. I’m gonna have to go fetch my suitcase later at night,” he sighs. “You’re taking the couch.”

Yuta scowls, snapped out from his guilt-induced trance. “Wait, what? Fuck no, I’m not. _You’re_ the one barging in _my_ room. And besides,” he gives Ten a once over, a mocking smile pulling at his lips “I wouldn’t fit.”

Ten’s hands ball into fists. “For your information, I wouldn’t fit either,” he hisses, ears going red. “And _you_ were the idiot that got us into this mess, so _you_ tell me a better solution if you have one.” 

Yuta stares at him stiffly for a long moment. The longer he holds Ten in those unreadable, dark brown eyes, the more Ten feels his resolve crumble. If his pride allowed him, he’d let Yuta have the godforsaken bed just so he could stop staring.

But before Ten gives in, the other talks.

“The bed is big enough for two,” he states airily, casting a casual glance at the large, king-sized bed. “Unless you want to safe-keep your dignity? I’d understand if you’d rather sleep on the couch.”

Ten smiles non-amusedly. “My dignity can handle way more than sharing a bed with you, thank you very much.”

Yuta smiles back at him, and it’s so annoying Ten nearly regrets the new plan. He looks like he’s about to tease him or make fun of him again, but instead he just sighs, surprising the younger. “Let’s start going over the case, then. We should come up with a new plan.”

And just like that, both sit on the couch across from the bed, Yuta laying out the case files as Ten pulls out his laptop.

“This is the plan Johnny wrote down for me,” Ten begins, showing Yuta a well-structured schedule he has opened on the screen. “These are the events and activities I was going to attend. He said these were the ones where I could probably gather as much intel as possible.”

Yuta pulls out a crumpled piece of paper from his back pocket. He unfolds it, smooths it down with his hands over the table, and Ten realizes that’s his own schedule _. God._

They compare them both.

The one Taeyong made for Yuta is obviously better, or so he says (“ _It’s color-coded!”),_ but Ten’s... It’s a thoroughly thought one, covering almost every major event of the 5 days they’ll be staying to solve the case. Refusing to back down, however, Yuta defiantly points at an item a few points down.

Seven o’clock, Bingo.

“Let’s scratch that out,” he waves his hand, and Ten shoots him a questioning look. “What are we going to find there besides old people that smell like baby powder? Taeyong found a Margarita tasting event, same day, same time. We should get to know other guests, and this sounds more like a place where we could find info about any kind of business involving The Boss,” Yuta explains.

He expects a fight that doesn’t come.

Instead, Ten gives a short nod in response and clicks on the screen to retype the new event.

… Did he just seriously agree with Yuta?

"Hang on," the older reaches into his back pocket, whipping out his phone and opening up the camera in front of them, grinning. He snaps their picture. "Needed to document the occasion."

Ten rolls his eyes, and so the night goes.

Yuta feels pride bloom in his chest every time Ten accepts one of his ideas, reinventing themselves a new schedule. _Maybe he’s not so bad_ , the older thinks as he stares at him, at the way Ten’s tongue peeks from in between his lips as he concentrates, his eyes scanning over the computer, thinking. He’s surprised at how fast Ten comes up with solutions, at how easily he puts up a new plan. He’s far more open-minded than Yuta remembered him to be, and he’s great at finding details Yuta would usually overlook.

Maybe being a perfectionist had its positive side.

Ten, on the other hand, can feel Yuta’s eyes on him, feels them attentive– kind, for a change. _Maybe this is for the best_ , he thinks, accepting that working together will probably work well for them. He’s taken aback by how cooperative Yuta is, and even more by how creative his ideas are compared to his. Because _duh_ , it’s would be easier for them to blend in at a vacation resort as a couple and not just two single men that could raise suspicions. Maybe what Yuta did was the best thing he could’ve done. 

Maybe being reckless for once was okay. 

That doesn’t mean, however, that he’s stopped being insufferable.

After a few hours of planning and discussing, Yuta yawns obnoxiously loud, stretching his arms above his head, nearly hitting Ten across the face. “Let’s just sleep for tonight.”

“We still have to plan the last day,” Ten reminds him, tapping his nail on the computer screen for Yuta to see the schedule is still empty there.

The older waves the comment away. “Too tired. We can do it tomorrow.”

And then he’s up the couch and pulling off his shirt.

Ten sighs loud enough for Yuta to hear he’s annoyed, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He stripes down all the way to his boxers and climbs onto the bed like he’s home, and Ten has to take a deep breath not to order him to come back immediately. He side-eyes him and watches as Yuta creates a separation on the bed by using several pillows _(how childish_ ), his back muscles appreciable with each movement. Ten is quite glad Yuta’s facing away as he feels his pulse quickening and his heart racing.

He really gets on his fucking nerves.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At least they don’t have to kiss anymore.

"What’s your favorite color?"

Yuta’s eyes flutter open at the sound.

He runs his hands through his face and stretches on the bed, attempting to wake up completely before trying to process what he just heard. He turns his head around, searching for his phone, wondering why he’s being asked such a thing at… _7 in the morning?!_

Ten is sitting on the couch, not too far from the bed, cross-legged with his laptop on his lap. His glasses slide down the slope of his nose, and he seems to be absorbed on whatever he’s reading on the screen.

Yuta yawns loudly. “What?”

His roommate’s head springs up, glancing over at him, expressionless. It’s almost funny. "I should know your favorite color. Also the name of your family members, what you like to do in your spare time, and your definition of the perfect date. And you should know mine."

“... I’m sorry, _what_?”

Ten sighs, rolling his eyes as if what he’s saying makes perfect sense. “I’m reading this article on how to be the perfect couple, you know, in order to be convincing. There’s a whole bunch of info we should know about each other so we better get down to taking notes.

_Is this guy for real?_

Yuta can’t help the mocking smile that pulls at his lips, genuinely thinking that Ten has lost his mind. “You’re kidding, right?”

The younger frowns. “Why would I?”

“Man, haven’t you ever been undercover as a couple before?” Yuta asks, mindlessly unlocking his phone to mess with that one social media app he reads as if it’s the morning newspaper. A mischievous thought crosses his mind then, and he doesn’t even fight the urge to say it. “Scratch that. Haven’t you ever had a couple before?”

He expects Ten to roll his eyes and yell at him, tell him to fuck off, or maybe even come up with a better excuse as to why he’d be documenting himself on websites meant for teenage girls who have a crush.

But what really comes is pure silence, and when Yuta raises his head to look up at him and verify he hasn’t gone deaf, he finds a surprisingly red-faced Ten looking down at his hands over the keyboard.

“... Oh my God,” Yuta takes his hand to his mouth. “Li Yongqin… Was I your first kiss?”

Ten’s reaction is immediate.

He shoots the other a deadly glare, though his colored cheeks don’t make it easy for him to look scary. “Of course you weren’t, you dumbass. I’ve kissed before. More than once too. What do you even care anyway?” he closes his laptop shut with a thud and tosses it to the other end of the couch, crossing his arms over his chest the way kids do when they throw a tantrum. “I was just being cautious, since we’re gonna have to act like we can stand each other for a week.”

It takes all of Yuta’s willpower not to break into loud laughter because, really– Ten’s looking kind of ridiculous right now. 

“Okay, okay, I get it,” he gives a half-suppressed smile. He knows this is mostly his fault and it gnaws at his moral, so when he speaks next, he does so softly, in the voice he uses when he’s talking to small children or injured victims. “Look, I’m sorry I kissed you yesterday. Even though it was the only thing I could think of to save the mission, it wasn’t cool. It was over the top, not part of the plan, and I didn’t have your consent. Going undercover as a couple is usually not like that.”

Ten looks skeptical of him, but his shoulders relax and his face cools off. He hadn’t expected an apology from Yuta. He thought he was just a selfish asshole, and it makes him feel guilty for the things he’s done, too.

“It’s okay,” he speaks quietly too, almost shy. “Sorry I yelled at you last night. I usually go undercover alone or as a group... How is it like to do it as a couple?”

Yuta hums. “Well, you were right about something. We _are_ gonna have to act like we can stand each other,” he jokes, laying back against the headboard. “But, other than that, it’s pretty simple. We just have to be seen around together, talking and acting normally. Kissing is usually done in emergencies only, like when we’re about to get caught or if someone’s suspecting us. Public displays of affection usually make people so uncomfortable they don’t even dare to look twice,” he explains, hoping the other will understand. “As long as we’re safe, we don’t have to do… _that_ anymore. Maybe just walk together. Hold hands sometimes. Shit we can manage.”

He speaks from experience– Yuta has gone as part of an undercover couple more than a few times in the past, usually with people on his own team like Taeyong or Doyoung. Each of those missions had actually gone pretty smoothly and safely, none of them actually requiring for him and his partner to do anything out of the ordinary, let alone _kiss_.

Yuta had really pushed it with that one today, and he knows it, which is why he’s trying to make up for it.

Ten seems to get it, though, because he starts nodding. “Okay,” he says, reaching out for his laptop and opening it back up like nothing ever happened. “Sounds good.”

So it’s set, and Yuta feels strangely relieved once the conversation’s over. 

Even though Ten goes back to ignoring him, something tells him they are probably thinking the exact same thing– that if they’re going to be working together for the next couple of days, they might as well do their best to get along. Fighting and bickering can get tired at a certain point, and there’s no room for mistakes on this case, so they both have to be on their best condition for whatever may arise.

And maybe if they manage to work together nicely and solve this case, they can make up for that failed one, 3 years ago.

Finally rolling out of bed, Yuta runs his hand through his hair. “Well, I better shower and get ready for the day,” he says nonchalantly, grabbing a change of clothes and his hair products from his suitcase.

Ten doesn’t say anything, so the older simply makes his way to the bathroom, calmly. 

When his hand is wrapped around the doorknob, Yuta turns around slightly to look at his partner. “Ten?”

The other replies, eyes still on his computer. “Yeah?” 

“My favorite color is yellow.”

* * *

Yuta finds the activities inside the resort to be actually quite fun. 

Against Ten’s best efforts (“W _e’re going to get caught if you keep being this loud”_ ), the older manages to make the most of every event they go. It’s a miracle they manage not to get caught.

Through morning brunch, mini-golf, and a lot of talkative ladies, they discover the first bits of valuable information for the case. Apparently, the original owner of the resort was someone who fell in great debt a few years back, and it ended up being bought by someone else as a gift for the current CEO. No one knows how they were able to suddenly renew this place as it is, but everyone’s glad they did– it has quickly become one of the best vacation resorts in the area _._

Worth every won, or so they say.

They attend a _painting party_ at 4 PM that doesn’t really reveal much, but Yuta discovers an interesting fact about his partner that he could have never imagined on his own. 

Ten’s great at painting. 

He slides the tin-pointed brush through the canvas with outstanding control, strokes decorating the scenery he’s painting in splashes of purple, magenta and yellow. His face is peaceful as he does so and, for the first time since Yuta remembers meeting Ten, he looks relaxed, like his mind has finally disconnected and is having a break from all that thinking.

Almost like it’s therapeutic, it makes him talk.

“I haven’t painted in so long,” the younger finds himself saying, not to anyone in particular, just lets the words float in the air.

He doesn’t really know if he’s supposed to, but Yuta asks, “Why? You’re good at it.”

“I don’t know,” Ten sounds like he’s in a trance. He’s so concentrated on his canvas that he doesn’t seem to realize what he’s saying. “I’ve been so busy with the agency, the missions and everything, that I’ve just… forgotten.”

“About what?”

“Myself.”

Ten has been a secret agent for so long, it’s almost like he no longer remembers what it was like to be himself.

Ever since he was a child, it was written for him to become an agent like both his parents. From attending training camps for most of his youth to practically growing up inside an agency, he’d always been told what to do, what to say, and how to behave.

He’s always been either a model agent (obedient and professional) or the person undercover (roles he adapts to so well he ends up becoming that other person in a way, like an alternative life). It’s like a switch the agency can turn on and off whenever they need to, with no middle ground for Ten to actually act on his own. 

Whenever he’s pulled out of a mission or done with a case, he always comes back to being nothing more than an agent– giving reports and being debriefed.

Whoever he truly is, whoever the man painting a beautifully colored canvas right now is, he’s a stranger to Yuta, and to Ten himself.

He seems to notice about what he just spilled, however, because suddenly the brush stops dead over the canvas, a splotch of green appearing near the bottom. Ten can feel Yuta’s eyes fixed on him, and it’s the first time the older doesn’t know what to do or say.

Ten clears his throat. “Sorry. You don’t care.”

And so he goes back to painting.

Yuta finds himself staring, but he can’t bring himself to stop after what he just heard. He stares, at the newly discovered artist next to him, at the colored canvas he’s painting. It’s a masterpiece compared to Yuta’s awful painting of what seems to be the Sun— a borderline creepy mess of orange and yellow paint covering completely the white canvas. Ten’s art is adorned by dozens of pretty colored flowers that hide eyes between their petals and thorns in their pedicels. It’s absolutely beautiful, and it’s just impossible not to tell how much Ten looks like a completely different person while doing it.

It’s true, that Yuta’s always thought of Ten as a perfectly programmed robot— a machine, meant to obey orders and act according to plan, with no room for mistakes or even having fun. But right now, the person next to him seems completely different. 

Almost human.

Yuta knows he probably shouldn’t be thinking of Ten in any other way than his annoying partner for this mission, the man who inserted himself into a case that was rightfully Yuta’s… But what he just heard makes him feel some kind of way, and he wants to let Ten know he does.

He cares.

Yuta’s about to say something, reach out, maybe even compliment Ten and thank him for sharing, but the man sitting next to him starts laughing so hard it makes him distracted.

The older turns around.

“Sorry! Sorry,” the other man says, covering his mouth with his hand as if that way it’ll stop him from laughing. “I’m just… Look at _that._ ”

He points to a man near the corner of the room painting something that’s _so_ bad it can’t be real. The person sitting next to the man nudges him and scolds him for laughing, but then Yuta starts laughing, too, and they can’t stop.

It takes no time for him to begin chatting non-stop with the man (whose name is Jeonghan), and then they’re joking together and exchanging phone numbers and introducing each other to their partners. Ten is forced to share an awkward handshake with Jeonghan’s husband, Seungcheol, but they hit it off nicely the minute they start talking about art and music.

Turns out Ten is incredibly easy to talk to, which encourages Yuta to think that maybe he try doing so when they go back to their room, maybe even resume their interrupted talk about Ten’s painting.

The thought distracts Yuta more than once from his talk with Jeonghan, and he gets teased about it whenever he gets caught.

* * *

  
  


By 6:30 PM, they sign up for a cooking class that proves to be Ten’s worst enemy.

“ _Fuck,_ ” he mutters, once again dropping pieces of eggshell in the batter. Yuta tries his best to cover his laugh with his hand but apparently fails, based on the glare he receives not a second later. “I’d like to see you try, asshole,” Ten says under his breath without sure they are not being overheard.

Yuta raises one eyebrow. “Sure thing, _baby_ ,” he replies before butting Ten’s hip with his own to get him out of the way. Ten lets out a grunt of dismay, but concedes the batter and eggs to his partner.

They have been in the baking class for the last thirty or so minutes, though a large portion of it has been the expert explaining the art of baking. It has been dreadfully boring for Yuta so far, since he’s already quite aware of how to making something as simple as cupcakes, and they also haven’t learned much about the investigation, but here they are, with half a dozen other people, baking cupcakes. Or rather, trying to. Yuta fears they are quite far behind the other couples by this point, so he decides to take charge.

First, he discards Ten’s entire batch of batter— not risking biting into eggshell later. He can practically feel the stare of disapproval boring into his head, and it takes all of his will not to break into laughter again. 

He measures and pours in the flour, Ten hovering far too close and watching his every move, probably to watch for mistakes to hold over the other, even if he’s terrible at baking himself. 

“It’s all about being quick,” Yuta says, grabbing two eggs, deftly cracking and dropping them in at once, not a fragment of shell to be found. 

Ten’s face is a hilarious mixture of awe and irritation, like he can’t decide which to feel. As the older adds in the milk and begins mixing it, Ten can’t help but ask. “What are you now, a baker?”

“Sometimes,” Yuta replies, a playful tone on his voice. “I usually bake cakes for my team when it’s someone’s birthday. Including my own.”

It’s probably not the answer Ten expected, because he takes a second to speak again. “Did your mom show you how to bake, or…?”

Yuta shakes his head, too concentrated on the mixture to pay attention to what he’s saying. “Nah. Everything I know I learned on my own. My mom was never really… A mom, I guess.”

“What do you mean?” Ten asks all of a sudden, and it seems to surprise even himself.

The older hums. The hand mixing the batter becomes a little slower. “She was just always busy. So was my dad. Neither really had time for a child, so I just figured it all on my own,” he laughs nervously, already feeling slightly aware of what he’s saying and not being able to stop. “Really comes to show why I don’t know how to follow any rules, don’t you think?”

He’s trying to make a joke out it, but Ten doesn’t laugh.

Yuta clears his throat. “Anyway... Think you take it from here?” he says instead, referring to the bowl and whisk on his hands.

Ten doesn’t know what to do or say either, so he simply nods, taking the stuff from Yuta and beginning to clumsily mix the batter. 

The sight of it is hilarious— a small, angry-looking man, with his brows furrowed and his tongue sticking out from between his lips in concentration, being so terrible at mixing he nearly spills everything out of the bowl.

Surprised laughter bubbles out of Yuta loudly, attracting a few curious gazes. Ten’s face flushes red and he glares heatedly at his partner, which only serves to add fuel to Yuta’s laughter.

“Shut up. You’re attracting attention,” the younger mumbles under his breath, but there’s not any kind of harm on his voice. He casts a wary glance around at the other people who watch them with amusement. 

After a few deep breaths, Yuta finally gets himself under control, though his shoulders still shake a little in silent laughter. “Sorry, sorry. Don’t know what came over me, baby,” he leans against Ten so naturally it almost doesn’t seem part of an act. “How about I finish up the cooking and you handle the filling?” he suggests sweetly, a wide smile on his face. Ten watches him for a moment, an unreadable expression on his face. 

Then he sighs and gave Yuta a reluctant smile.

“Okay,” his voice is small and borderline affectionate.

For some reason, that half-smile makes Yuta feel suddenly breathless. 

His heart accelerates, but he quickly recovers with an equally affectionate smile. Because, right, it’s all for the case, and he isn’t about to be outdone by Ten, even if it’s something as arbitrary as expressing love— act or otherwise.

“Leave it to me,” Yuta says confidently, accepting the mixing bowl Ten offers him back.

They pass the rest of the class calmly and end up enjoying the delicious taste of their creation once the cupcakes are done. Yuta finds it incredibly amusing as he watches Ten eat the cupcakes like they’re his last meal, but he’s able to withhold his laughter in exchange for a hidden, enthused smile this time.

They don’t learn much about the case today, but they learn a little about themselves.

* * *

  
  


Throughout the day, they continue doing their best to maintain the facade of the _sickly sweet_ couple– while still trying to keep as much distance as possible. 

Ten is quite unused to PDA, but he allows Yuta to wrap his arm around him each time they enter a new room or bump into people they’ve met, all for the sake of keeping up appearances. He finds it incredibly hard not to smack it away when he feels Yuta’s hand rub circles against his hip or his shoulder, but he reassures himself that soon enough he’ll get used to it. 

On the other hand, Yuta, surprisingly enough, desperately wants this to be over.

Because, sure, this all had been his idea. It had been the first thing that popped into this mind days ago when he saw those guys giving Ten looks that screamed danger. This isn’t Yuta’s first rodeo, and he knows his instincts are almost never wrong– it's part of being a good agent, you know, to trust your instincts, trust your partner’s. It’s part of working as a team, and they're strangely turning out to be a pretty fucking great team, but honestly…

He might have dug his own grave.

Yuta keeps getting taken aback by the continuous small smiles and looks of affection Ten sends his way in front of others. Every time he meets his eyes and sees that look, all of his hairs stand on edge, and he has to fight furiously against frowning.

Who knew the man that hated his guts could smile like that? _Gross!_

This is all an act, Yuta knows that, but he can’t help but think how hard this week will be if Ten continues looking at him like that.

At least they don’t have to kiss anymore.

* * *

  
  


It’s near 9 PM, when they’re having dinner at one of the resort’s many restaurants, that things start getting messy. 

“We’re being followed,” Ten states between bites of his steak, saying it so casually he might as well have been talking about his pets.

Yuta freezes at the words, a forkful of pasta stopping halfway to his mouth. He looks like he’s about to start turning around like a lost child, so Ten hurries to speak again. “You can look, just _don’t_ make it obvious, for God’s sake,” he whispers. “The man three tables to our left.” 

To Ten’s relief, Yuta’s actually pretty good at being discreet. Once he’s seen him, he gives his partner a nod. “Isn’t that the guy from yesterday? The bartender?”

The one who’d been secretly whispering to a “customer” the day they arrived at the resort. The one who’d mentioned the words _port_ and _Boss_ in a conversation Ten had been eavesdropping before Yuta had come closer and…

Yeah. It’s that man.

“He was at brunch this morning, also at golf.”

Yuta tries to offer a reasonable explanation. “Well, he works here, doesn’t he? Maybe he’s not just a bartender, but also a chef, or a bellboy...”

Ten shakes his head. “He was at the events as a guest. And he was at the painting party, too, remember? He painted that terrible looking goose you and Jeonghan were laughing about.”

“Oh yeah. It _was_ terrible,” the older laughs, remembering the awful canvas Jeonghan had pointed him to earlier that day. The poor animal had its head painted next to his tail. Yuta notices Ten looking at him unamusedly, so his laughter stops. “... What?”

“You should be more careful about making friends in here, Yuta,” his partner reprimands him, taking off his glasses and setting them over the table. He looks outstandingly natural on everything he does. “We could get caught.”

“We’ve been talking to a bunch of people here,” the older tries to argue. “So what if I befriend him? It’s just _one_ person.”

“And his husband.” 

“Okay then, two people,” Yuta shrugs. “They seemed nice! What’s wrong with me being nice to nice people?”

“You’re being reckless.”

“Reckless has kept me alive, baby.”

Ten looks seconds away from stabbing down his fork on Yuta’s hand, but he recovers quite nicely. “We’re getting out of track. We’re being followed, which means we’re probably getting suspected of. And it’s not even day three.”

Yuta sighs. “Okay, then, let’s calm down,” he says, setting down the silverware next to his plate. He reaches out to place his hand over Ten’s on the table, and the younger doesn’t know if he’s doing it as part of their act or just to make Ten feel safer. Either way, it’s oddly reassuring. “We’ll be okay. We just need to keep acting naturally— it’s not like we’re walking around questioning people or wedging our plaques.”

He’s right, Ten realizes, so he takes a deep breath and nods.

They continue having dinner after that, and Yuta decides against eating quietly in order to not raise any more suspicions. He sets off on a tale about the time he had to go undercover as an old woman, dress and makeup and all, and even though Ten doesn’t want to at first, he ends up laughing. 

It’s so funny he almost snorts water out of his nose more than once. 

It’s a little weird, to be honest, the fact that he can’t help but actually _enjoy_ talking to Yuta. But considering the situation they find themselves in, one that would’ve made Ten feel awfully self-conscious had he been alone, he’s grateful his partner is there to distract him.

He almost doesn’t realize when both their plates are empty, and Yuta asks for the check and says he’ll pay, to which Ten only accepts after promising next time will be on him.

As they’re about to walk out of the restaurant, he sees, through the corner of his eye, the bartender standing up from his own spot and getting ready to leave, too. Now that he takes a better look at him, Ten gulps at the man’s built– not too tall, but so broad and muscular it seems like a punch from him could knock him out in under a second.

On top of the man’s table is nothing but an untouched glass of water and an ashtray.

It makes the agent gulp.

Yuta wraps his arm around Ten to bring him closer, which makes the younger tense up. His partner leans his head on top of his as they make their way out and towards the hotel so he can speak close to his ear. “I don’t want to alarm you,” Yuta whispers, trying to be as clear as possible. “But you were right. We’re totally being followed.”

Ten curses under his breath. “You saw him too, right? We need to do something.” 

“Like what?”

They round a corner, trying to keep their pace steady, to not look like they’re trying to run away. Ten sees, on the reflection of a window to his left, that the man is walking several feet behind them, but definitely following them.

“I don’t know,” he tells Yuta, scavenging his brain for a quick solution, a way out, a distraction. Anything. “We need to get him off our backs. If he follows us into the hotel, he’ll see our room number and try to break in. And if he finds our equipment it’s over. We’ll be fucked.”

Yuta takes a whole second to think. “What if I knock him out?”

For some reason, the idea makes Ten laugh. “You’re kidding.”

“Not really,” the older seems dead serious. “I have a killer swing.”

They’re nearing the hotel’s lobby as they keep thinking of what to do. Ten’s breath hitches as they walk in, still clueless, walking down the corridor with careful steps, the elevator right in front of them. If they can’t come up with anything in the next two minutes, the man will catch up to them and follow them into the elevator, might even act as if the floor they choose is also his own.

How can they convince this man that they’re a regular couple on a regular vacation?

As soon as they reach elevator doors, Yuta presses the button that goes up. Ten notices his partner’s hand is shaking, but the look on his face is calm, determined, like he’s seriously trying not to freak out and mess this whole thing up. He’s great at keeping himself collected, he notices, even when they’re seconds away from getting locked inside those four walls with a man who could probably try to kill them both.

When the elevator dings, its doors opening to let them inside, an idea that Ten wishes it hadn’t suddenly sparks up on his mind.

He’s going to regret this.

“Yuta.”

“Hm?”

He’s shorter than the other, so he wraps his arms around his neck to pull his face down.

Yuta’s lips are soft in surprise, and Ten pushes him inside and against the elevator walls. There’s no helping it now. If they need to put on a show for this man to leave them alone, then they will. Ten lets his fingers mess through Yuta’s hair, and he gives a small pull to get him to follow. It seems to work, thankfully, because the sensation jolts the other into action and he kisses back, both hands settling on the small of Ten’s back, fingers flexing into the fabric.

The bartender, who was just catching up and about to climb onto the elevator with them, stops dead in his tracks. He walks right past them, turning left down the corridor to another wing of the resort, as if all this time he had been meaning to take that path.

And so the doors to the elevator close in front of the agents, leaving them alone inside and out of the man’s eye.

They pull apart slowly, with what looks like reluctance but is actually careful wariness, just in case the doors open again, in case they need to resume the act, press together again in another hungry display to deflect attention. It's really not that bad, it’s just kissing. Just kissing, and wet sounds as their lips meet, and warm breath between them, and confusing arousal burning at the pit of their stomachs.

For the sake of the case, obviously.

They part once the elevator starts going up, and when Yuta takes a good look at Ten, he breaks into a small grin. His hair is falling out of its carefully combed style and onto his forehead, totally disheveled, and he’s looking a rather pleasingly pink in the cheeks.

It’s not every day you get to see the immaculate Li Yongqin out of sorts.

Ten relaxes the grip on Yuta’s hair, clumsily brushing it back in place with hands that are surprisingly steady for a man who just had his mouth eaten. Yuta bites back another smile as Ten clears his throat, meeting his partner’s eyes again. His eyes burn in embarrassment, heightened by the rather obvious flush on his face.

He’s a little amazed it worked so well, though. Yuta had said that obvious PDA would make people uncomfortable enough to not look too closely– and he had to hand it to him, it worked like a charm.

They don’t speak a work on the way back to their room, but there are no more signs of the bartender and Ten takes it as a win.

A terrible, red-faced win.

* * *

The room is awfully quiet once they’re inside.

The two of them sit silently, Ten on the couch and Yuta on the bed, their files spread out as both write down the information they managed to get throughout the day. Ten hates the silence so much he starts a phone call with Johnny, to update him on the few red flags they encountered but also as an excuse so he doesn’t have to talk to his partner. On the contrary, Yuta tries to distract himself by texting Taeyong to brag about the luxury of the resort— both keeping themselves busy enough to avoid remembering what happened at the elevator. 

It’s easier to pretend it never happened, though the tension in the air won’t let them forget.

“Would you say the resort’s activities are packed?” Johnny’s voice asks from the other side of the room. He’s on speaker because Ten is busy doing God knows what on his computer, frowning at the screen like it just insulted him and his entire family.

Yuta could almost think it’s cute.

“Not really,” Ten says mindlessly. He seems a little distracted, like his mind is trying to piece together the information they got today. “I mean there _are_ many people, but it’s not like they run out of space. Why?”

Johnny hums on the phone. “Well, I researched everything I could about the resort today,” he says. It’s not surprising that Johnny’s as diligent as Ten. “And it says they have around 154 rooms, plus 46 platinum suites.”

“Why didn’t we get one of those?” Yuta complains in the middle of texting Taeyong a pic of him in front of the resort’s biggest pool.

Ten ignores his question. “How much income do they usually report a year?”

“Around 240 million won.”

The frown on Ten’s face deepens as he calculates.

To make that amount would mean that the resort books at least 140 regular rooms and 30 platinum suites, and only if all guests buy their all-inclusive package. Considering the number of people they’ve seen on the two days they’ve spent at the resort, it’s not like those numbers are impossible to achieve, they’re just… Unlikely.

Yuta only knows that’s a shit ton of money.

It’s Johnny, however, the one to say what they’re all thinking. “You need to get access to their property management software.”

Ten chews at his bottom lip, visibly concerned at what the other just said. His team has always been an extremely capable one— whether it’s him investigating a profile, Mark gathering intel or Winwin on marksmanship, they’re one of the best, most complete teams their agency has.

And even though Johnny can handle a few of the minor stuff, what they shamefully lack is a good hacker.

That’s why it’s almost a relief when Yuta says, “Taeyong can do it.”

Ten’s head snaps up, a little too enthusiastically. His eyes meet Yuta’s for the first time since getting back from the elevator, and it springs up a memory that he wishes could forget.

Thankfully, Johnny speaks right then. “Sorry, what was that?”

Yuta gets up from his spot on the bed to prop down on the couch next to Ten. The younger shifts uncomfortably on his seat when his shoulder brushes Yuta’s, eyes glued back on the screen in front of him. He takes his phone from the armrest to hold it between them so the other can speak into it.

“Hey, man,” Yuta says, politely ignoring the way the phone shakes on Ten’s hand. “It’s Yuta. I heard what you said about the software, and I was telling Ten that I’m pretty sure Taeyong can do it.”

“Really? That’s great!” the other exclaims, clearly excited. “If we crack into their software, we’d have access to all their room inventory, from the first day to today. We can compare what they show on each audit to the real numbers...”

“And if they don’t match, we could prove the money laundering,” Ten finishes, nodding to himself. “It would be major for the case.”

Yuta pulls out his phone, sliding it open back to his conversation with Taeyong. “Let me give him the details real quick. Even if he can’t, I’m sure he can come up with something. That’s pretty much his area.”

“That would be amazing, Yuta, thank you!” Johnny cheers, sounding like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. “Say thank you, Ten.”

Ten rolls his eyes. “Goodbye, Johnny.”

His teammate mumbles something along the lines of _Oi, you brat!_ before the call is cut short, Ten’s phone screen going immediately dark. He avoids Yuta’s eyes as he turns back to his laptop, hands hurriedly, and a little clumsily, clicking on keys and sliding down the cursor to turn off the device.

As Yuta gets on to discuss with Taeyong about what he needs to do, he realizes that he might have imagined it, but he can almost swear Ten mumbles a small _thank you_ through his teeth before getting up from the couch.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he says then, this time aloud. “We can go over the schedule tomorrow.”

Ten turns on his heels, gets to his still unpacked suitcase and starts rummaging through its contents like he can’t wait to get out of there. He keeps remembering everything that happened today, from the talks they shared at some of the events and activities, to the kiss inside the elevator. Something about his movements is careful, calculated, like he doesn’t want to do or say anything that’ll lead Yuta to remember about it, too, even though he does.

They both shared and did some things that neither would have ever thought of sharing or doing with the other, but now that they have, Ten seems almost scared that Yuta will tease him about any of it.

Which he could, but Yuta himself isn’t really in the mood to turn scarlet red.

“Hey, Ten,” he calls instead. The other stops moving around, indicating he’s listening. He doesn’t reply, nor does he turn around to look at him, but Yuta flashes him a smile anyway. “I think we might be a good team, after all.”

Ten turns his face ever so slightly that Yuta can catch a glimpse of his nose.

“I think so too,” he mumbles, and then he disappears into the bathroom.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lee Taeyong is insane.

“I'll kill him.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yeah, I will,” Yuta slides down the booth, pouting even though the other can’t see him. “If he keeps pulling me out of bed at 7 in the morning, I _will_ eventually kill him.”

Taeyong laughs at the other end of the phone. “Yuta, what did we agree on?” he reprimands, though his voice still keeps that joyful tone.

Yuta rolls his eyes. “Case first, murder second.”

“Good boy.”

He’s sitting somewhere in the middle of the resort’s breakfast room, still in his pajamas and with a plate full of scrambled eggs, bacon, and sausages in front of him. Yuta can feel his eyes threatening to close down, his body ready to shut back down into sleep, but now that he’s here he might as well take advantage of that breakfast buffet that comes with the reservation. 

On the other side of the room, Ten is standing by the coffee machine, pouring boiling hot coffee into a cup, the steam visible even to Yuta from their booth.

He sighs onto the phone again. “Think you can do the hacking I told you about yesterday?”

“I’m just now getting into it,” Taeyong replies, Yuta can hear the faint but familiar sound of his friend pressing down keys on his computer. “I’ll try to gain access to their software by exploiting any flaw I can find in the resort’s system configuration. If it all goes well, it shouldn’t take long.”

“Perfect, call me if anything happens,” Yuta says, mouth full of bacon. “Or else Ten will kill _me_ without hesitation _._ ”

The typing on Taeyong’s end of the line stops dead for a second. “... Come again?”

“I’m just saying. I told Ten we could do it, so he’ll probably expect us to handle it ourselves.”

“Oh wow, there it is again.”

Yuta frowns. “What are you talking about?”

He can’t actually see him, but he’s almost certain Taeyong’s smiling. “You don’t ever call him _Ten_ with us. You usually make jokes with his full name or just call him _that proud prick,_ ” his friend laughs amusedly. “I just found it odd.”

And Taeyong’s right— it is odd. When talking about him, Yuta’s used to make fun of Ten with the rest of his teammates, always mockingly referring to him the same way their senior officers do. _The immaculate Li Yongqin! The audacious Li Yongqin!_

_Li Yongqin, high and mighty!_

Working alongside him and having to call him Ten must really be messing with Yuta’s head.

“He is still a proud prick,” he ends up saying, shoving a forkful of eggs into his mouth. “But I’m getting used to working with him. I mean, I have to.”

“Sure thing. Just don’t get _too_ used to it or you might fall in love with him while you’re at it,” Taeyong jokes, and it makes Yuta choke on his food. His teammate laughs loudly into his ear as Yuta reaches out to take a sip of his orange juice. 

Insane, Lee Taeyong is _insane._ How could he even think that? 

Yuta? Falling for the pretentious Li Yongqin? Please.

Thank God he hasn't said anything about the undercover couple thing, let alone the kissing, or else his friend would have yet another excuse to say that kind of nonsense.

He’s insane.

Once he’s recovered from the terrible, terrible, image Taeyong has just put inside his head, Yuta notices Ten coming back to sit on their booth, holding his cup of coffee in one hand and a small plate with a pastry on the other.

“I have to go,” he says into the phone, clearing his throat. “Call me when you’re done.”

“Sure thing, Li Yuta.”

“Fuck off,” the agent says, and hangs up the phone when Ten sits down in front of him on their table.

* * *

  
  


Today is packed with activities.

Right after breakfast, Ten refuses to walk around next to Yuta, who’s still wearing pajama pants, and he has to yell at him to go back into their room and change into _decent looking clothes_.

He comes back with a tight fit of neon-colored pants, and Ten almost wants to skip yoga.

The yoga studio is on the bottom floor of the resort. It’s a wide, brightly lit room with cream-colored walls and a wooden floor, currently packed with at least 15 other people waiting for class to start. Yuta spots Jeonghan and Seungcheol at a corner of the room, dressed in matching sweatpants, and they wave at each other before the instructor walks in and welcomes them all.

She’s cute– a woman in her mid 20s, petite but with a muscular built. She has her hair tied up in a ponytail, and she’s wearing a pair of skin-tight shorts and a sports bra, and Yuta likes her confidence and bubbly personality from the second she walks into the room.

Until class starts. Then he hates her.

Yuta discovers he’s far less flexible than he thought. He can practically hear his joints creak like rusty door hinges at every position the instructor tells them to take, and it’s hard not to hear Jeonghan’s stifled laugh even though he’s not any better. Is this seriously beginner's yoga? Because this woman seems like she wants them to bend and break at will, and Yuta’s _not_ having it.

What he hates most, is the way Ten, who’s completely immersed in his own little world, seems at home in every position. 

He goes through the downward-facing dog, high lunge and half-moon pose with complete ease, and his partner realizes that wow, Ten is _flexible_. They are shown all these moves and positions that the younger easily follows, from placing his leg all the way behind his ear to hugging the floor while doing the splits. He’s practically a natural on it.

Yet the instructor approaches him more than once.

“No, no, see,” she smiles, darting to Ten to correct his position. Is Yuta seeing things or did she apply lipstick at some point? “You have to relax your shoulders and suck your belly in. Yeah, that’s it,” she puts her hands on Ten’s abdomen and on the small of his back, and they stay there long after he’s corrected himself.

Yuta frowns. She’s not even helping out other people the way she’s doing to Ten.

He thinks he might be imagining it, after all, this is her job. But then she blatantly grabs Ten’s ass—again, under the pretext of correcting his position— and Yuta nearly jumps in terror as Jeonghan silently walks up to him and whispers into his ear, “You know, if she were doing that to my man, she would be gone by now.”

Jeonghan’s a little scary.

Class is over after what seems like ages, and Yuta waits for Ten outside, arms crossed over his chest.

The instructor had asked Ten if they could talk for a minute after everyone was gone, but one somehow turned into twelve, and the older is still waiting outside, chewing at the inside of his lip and wondering just why the fuck is he taking so long. If he’s getting her number it shouldn’t be that hard, just press down the damn numbers and get going.

They have work to do.

“Hey,” Ten asks as soon as he finally comes out of the room, mindlessly drinking from his water bottle.

For some reason, Yuta finds himself looking for lipstick stains on him. “What did she want to talk about?”

“Just asked if I’d done yoga before–”

“You were there far too long to just talk about that.”

Ten frowns. “Yeah, I wasn’t done yet,” he gives Yuta a weird look. “She asked if I’d done yoga before and then I said no and she said I should try it because I’m good. Then she asked if I was one of the _special guests_ of the resort. Do you know anything about special guests?”

Yuta shakes his head. Ten continues. “She didn’t have much information about that either, but we should look onto that when we get into the software,” he says, already walking away and into the elevator. They should take a shower before heading to the next event. “Any updates from Taeyong?”

“Not yet,” Yuta jogs after him. He’s sure he should be focused on the information Ten just found about special guests or whatever, but his mind is still hung up on something else. “That’s all she said?"

“Yeah. What’s up with you?” as the elevator doors open and they get in, Ten looks at Yuta like he thinks there’s something wrong with him.

And Yuta thinks there might as well be something actually wrong with him. Why is he acting like this all of a sudden? It's not like he thinks she's onto something, or that she could be The Boss (though, now that he thinks about it, is The Boss really a man?) but, for some reason, he wants to know everything they talked about while he wasn't there. What is he, a jealous boyfriend?

A particular set of words float around inside his head at that moment, though, like a mantra he so badly wants to forget. _Just don’t get too used to it or you might fall in love with him while you’re at it._

Ridiculous. Taeyong's insane.

Yuta presses the button for their floor number, blinking the thought away. “Nothing, nothing. Just curious. For the case.”

“Oh God,” his partner rolls his eyes. “Did you like her? Is that what this is about?”

“What?!”

“I saw you staring at her throughout the class and drooling,” Ten scoffs. He digs his hand into the pocket on his sweatpants and pulls out a folded piece of paper with two fingers. He offers it to Yuta. “If you want her number just say so.”

At the sight of it, the other feels his entire face flush red. He knew it.

Yuta smacks his hand away. “I don’t want anything, I was just curious if she’d say anything important for the mission, for fuck’s sake. Also, you shouldn’t give a woman’s number out to others.”

Ten stares at him like he’s truly lost his mind, but before he can say anything the doors of the elevator ding and open on their floor.

Yuta storms out of it without looking back.

* * *

  
  


They spend the rest of the morning picking strawberries from the resort’s garden, chatting with the other couples as they work in the blazing sun. 

Chatting with others doesn’t reveal much— even as Ten asks people if they’ve heard about the so-called _special guests_ most don’t know about them, and those who do know as much as he does. They were specially invited by the CEO, probably just rich folks that could become potential associates.

Nothing to worry about so far.

Even though Yuta seems reluctant at first, after a while they find themselves working much better together, getting used to the other, getting back to playing the couple part. 

They work on automatic pilot, falling so deep into their cover they’ve started to act like they’re actually in a relationship. Ten is so absorbed into the role he even starts feeding Yuta the biggest, brightest berries he finds, and it’s not until the third or fourth time that this happens that an old woman approaches them to say they’re so cute together and they realize this is happening. They turn red at the cheeks, thank her, and then don’t do it again.

After that, lunch goes by quickly, and so does the wine tasting event. Yuta downs the entire wine glass as soon as they hand it to him, and Ten snorts out a laugh that seems so uncharacteristic to him it’s almost charming.

It’s 4PM when Taeyong breaks the bad news, just before they can leave their room to head towards the sauna. 

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Sorry, Yu,” his friend says through the phone, sounding genuinely apologetic. “I tried all morning but it’s useless. They must’ve had firewall software put up by a pretty fucking good hacker to protect their information because I can’t get access to it with my computer alone.”

Ten tilts his head in front of Yuta. “What is he saying?”

“Their security is top-notch. Yong can’t get access to it through the cloud.”

“That’s a red flag on its own,” Ten mumbles, instantly chewing at his bottom lip. He’s thinking. “Why would they have hacking-proof security if they weren’t hiding anything? Don’t they get this information checked yearly by an audit?”

Yeah, they do, Yuta remembers. And he also remembers that every single audit so far has shown no signs of illegal activity.

So what could they possibly be hiding?

“Tell me you have something, Yong.” 

His friend scoffs like he’s offended by the question. “Of course I do,” he says, and the smile on his face can be heard through the phone. “And you’re gonna like it.”

Yuta’s eyes glisten with excitement. “Oh my God… Is it 60 seconds?”

Ten furrows his brows. “What’s 60 seconds?”

His question is ignored as Taeyong laughs. “Check the small pocket on your suitcase.”

He takes three long steps towards his disregarded suitcase in the corner of the room. There’s a small pile of equally clean and dirty clothes coming out of it, and Yuta just throws them away as he zips open the small pocket at a side of the case. From it, he pulls out something that looks like a flash drive, tiny on the palm of his hand, a device he knows well and that brings back some of his favorite memories on his years as a secret agent. 

“Lee Taeyong, you’re a _genius_ ,” Yuta cheers into the phone, dramatically planting a kiss on the device inside his fist.

Taeyong laughs. “Make sure you text me when it’s ready, okay? I’ll be waiting.” 

“Sure thing, bud. Thank you!”

“No problem. Good luck!”

Yuta hangs up then, still starstruck even seconds after the call is over.

Ten waves his hand in front of him. “Hello?” he’s nearly pouting, which is, essentially, what brings Yuta back. “What’s 60 seconds?”

“It’s our key to success,” the older says, holding the device in between his and Ten’s face. “And something that will probably get us killed.”

* * *

60 seconds is Yuta’s favorite near-death experience. 

And okay, maybe he’s being a little dramatic, but for some reason, he likes the adrenaline boost the game gives him. It’s actually quite simple— whenever a particular hacking job puts Taeyong’s abilities to the test, being impossible to crack from a distance, it’s Yuta’s place to help him extract the information from _within._

Inside the little office behind the reception desk at the resort, Taeyong located a certain hard drive where they keep a copy of the entirety of the resort’s property management software. A copy that Taeyong’s gonna be able to download into the flash drive Yuta holds, a device the older designed himself and that makes his job so much easier and faster.

All Yuta needs to do is sneak into that office, locate the hard drive, plug it into a computer and then plug in the flash drive Taeyong gave him. Wait for Taeyong to make a copy into the device, then retrieve it and leave the place.

All in 60 seconds.

No matter the time nor the place, 60 seconds is how much time he gets. If he takes longer, he risks getting caught. If he gets caught, he gets killed.

How could it get any more exciting?

“I’m going with you,” Ten says, following Yuta into the elevator as he gets ready to begin his mission.

The older gives him a look. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. You should wait outside, let me know if someone’s coming, you know?" 

“Even if I warned you, you’d still do as you please,” Ten snaps back, and maybe he’s right. “I’d rather go with you. If you get caught, I can come up with a way out.”

The thought of last night flashes through Yuta’s mind. _Some ideas you get there, Li,_ he feels tempted to say, but after what Taeyong said to him this morning, he might as well grow red on the face if he does.

Whatever. If he wants to come, so be it.

* * *

The front desk is empty by the time they get there.

Yuta assures Ten that it’s the receptionist’s lunch break, so they’re good to go. She doesn’t lock the office when she leaves, and she usually takes at least ten minutes to go buy food at the store that’s a few blocks down. Through the security cameras he just disabled, Taeyong studied her schedule for the past two days. It’s foolproof.

Sneaking in is easy.

“Okay, so where do we…?”

Ten stops mid-sentence as Yuta ties back his hair, pulling out the flash drive from his back pocket and plugging it into the nearest computer. He turns on the device as he looks through drawers and drawers of nothing but paper, until he finds a little black box that looks pretty much like what Taeyong described to be the hard drive they needed.

He moves so fast Ten barely moves, not wanting him to lose his rhythm.

As Yuta pulls out his phone and begins typing down a message to let Taeyong know everything’s ready, Ten realizes he’s staring.

He has to put effort into looking away, trying to focus instead on the clipped sound of high heels that draws closer and closer. Through the blinds of the small window on the door, Ten can just make out the silhouette of a woman coming closer.

"It's the receptionist," Ten murmurs, leaning forward so his partner can hear him. "She’s coming back. I thought you said we had ten minutes.”

“I said she’s _usually_ gone for ten minutes,” Yuta mumbles him, staring fascinated at the way the computer screen has turned completely black, neon green colored commands appearing without any keys being pushed. Taeyong’s magic. “But we still had sixty seconds to do this.”

“Yeah well now it’s ten seconds before we get caught,” Ten’s voice grows exasperated as he scans the room, considering their alternatives. The office is so small they don't have much room to breathe, let alone hide, so he clicks his tongue. “We need to get out.”

“How exactly will we get out? Using the front door to which where she’s coming?”

“There’s a window right there, you moron.”

“Don’t call me a moron.”

More commands appear on the computer, and then a loading bar takes over the screen. It’s downloading quickly, but not quick enough, and Ten doesn’t think they can make it. “We need to go.”

Yuta shakes his head no. “The data still hasn’t loaded.”

Ten does his best not to raise his voice. “Oh my God, Yuta, we can come back later. We can’t be this reckless."

“Reckless has–"

“Kept you alive, I know, for fuck’s sake,” Ten runs a hand through his face, losing his patience. “But we still have to go.”

“We have 20 seconds on the clock.”

“ _Yuta_.”

"Fine," the older huffs, annoyed. Ten thinks he’s won, ready to go and sneak out the window, but something pulls at him from the wrist before he can walk away. When Yuta speaks again, it’s in a quick whisper. “Diversion, then.”

He reaches out before Ten can convince him it's a bad idea.

Ten’s eyes widen in surprise and he gasps into Yuta’s mouth, ready to smack him right in the head for coming at him like that before his brain understands what’s going on: footsteps outside, getting closer, and what else would a couple be doing hiding in a room they shouldn’t be in?

It makes sense.

So he grabs onto Yuta’s shoulders and pulls him closer, way too close, shuffling backward until the backs of his thighs meet the edge of the desk. He arches his back a little, pushing himself onto it, Yuta humming against his mouth and helping him up by grabbing his ass. Ten groans low in his chest at the touch, legs splaying to either side of Yuta’s hips. They kiss as if they’d been doing so for a while now, both trying not to focus on the way their hearts are racing.

Because, when the door is suddenly pushed open, what they should be focusing on is remembering what they’re faking

“Oh God,” the receptionist squeaks when she sees them, out of the office in a flash and slamming the door behind her.

Yuta lets out an incredibly fake noise, playing up an exaggerated panting that anyone could be able to hear through the door. Ten nearly wants to choke him, especially considering that there's no sound of her heels running down the hallway, so she must still be just outside.

But still, he’s embarrassingly relieved– now there's no way she's going to even want to get into the office, let alone get close enough to see them meddling with her computer.

“Um," the woman calls from outside the door, voice loud but wobbling. "Sorry to, uh, interrupt, but you’re not supposed to be in there!”

Yuta bites his tongue to prevent himself from laughing. Ten is so speechless he can’t even come up with anything.

"Oh, forgive _us_!" Yuta says then. "We were just at the sauna, you know? All that steam… We really couldn't help ourselves!"

"It’s fine," the poor woman sounds ready to die of mortification. "But you really can’t be in there, it’s for employees only. Do you mind finishing your, um, your _business_ back in your room?"

Yuta groans. "Can’t you let us–?"

"Yes," Ten interrupts, flashing Yuta a glare. He gestures towards the computer, at the little text bubble that says _Data loaded successfully_. “We’ll be going now.! 

The older rolls his eyes, but nods and pulls away. 

Ten shivers at the sudden loss of Yuta’s body heat, at the absence of that tantalizing contact. His pulse throbs and he feels his face flush as he tries to make himself look more presentable, and Yuta reaches out to pull the flash drive out of the computer. He makes sure to turn it off, leaving it exactly as it was before they got here so there are no signs of them ever messing with it, as Ten climbs off the desk as carefully as he can, trying not to knock off anything.

They walk out of the office together, closing the door behind them. Ten keeps his head low, but Yuta goes all the way and smiles apologetically at the receptionist, who looks like she just wants them to get away from here. 

The younger picks up his pace as he walks away, so embarrassed even his ears flush red. Yuta catches up to him and loops an arm around his waist, which makes Ten flinch in surprise– the hand that settles on his hip is an oddly comforting presence. He looks up at Yuta as he shuffles closer, until their sides are pressed together and he can feel Yuta’s belt holster under his jacket press against his hip.

"Quick thinking," Ten whispers, reaching up to adjust his hair. Yuta can't help but chuckle.

"Sorry," he gives his partner’s hip a small pat. "You kind of owed me one, didn’t ya’?"

Ten’s eyes immediately avoid Yuta, cheeks flushing pink. It’s kind of cute. "I guess I did," he replies, staring down at the corridor in front of him.

“Come on, now," Yuta smiles, pulling Ten closer as they walk towards the direction of the elevator. "Let’s go back to our room and finish our business, shall we?”

* * *

The elevated tempo in Ten’s pulse has only just started to settle as they lock themselves inside their room, away from the reception, away from the threat of getting caught.

"Time to check this bad boy out," Yuta says, pulling the small drive out of his back pocket to hand to Ten. It’s a tiny thing, smaller than a cigarette lighter, now full of information and numbers and whatever else could prove everything that they’ve been trying to uncover. 

Their fingers touch for less than a second as Yuta hands over the drive, but the contact instantly sparks the memory of those fingers in each other’s hair, on their hips, all around. Ten tries not to squirm against the couch, hoping that in the muted darkness of the room Yuta can't see that his face is beginning to redden again, the blood rushing to his cheeks at the memory.

He plugs the device into his computer without saying anything.

The flash drive runs a program on his computer called Visual Matrix, the software coming to life with just a single click. Ten runs his cursor through the tabs and buttons on the screen, taking the time to give enough attention to every single one of them. The program is quite easy to use, and it allows him to analyze all of the resort’s data– from the customer base, to monitoring the performance of the resort and the booking and payment process of the hotel.

He clicks on the _Accounting_ section of the program, and the screen fills with numbers that take him a second to understand. Labor, wages, benefits, workers comp and taxes. Everything about their income and expenses is displayed right before his eyes, his mind quickly adding and subtracting numbers, locating where the money comes from and where it goes. Housekeeping, maintenance, Security, bellman, restaurant staff, Sales, Marketing and Management and more.

Yuta stares at him, nearly holding his breath.

It’s the moment of truth— this tells them if they’ve solved the case, or if they need to start all over again. To look for new information, talk to more people, break into control rooms. With two days left before the deadline, that’s a risk they can’t afford to take.

That’s why, when the numbers on the screen finally start making sense to Ten, he feels all blood drain from his body.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“What?” Yuta asks, trying and failing to not let panic arise in his voice. “What does it say?”

Ten counts again, adds up all the numbers, looks for the missing piece. 

It’s useless.

Yuta starts growing impatient. “Ten,” he says, the name alone demanding an explanation.

It’s all useless. 

“It matches,” the younger mumbles, voice loaded with disappointment. “It all matches our numbers. There’s no money being laundered through the resort.”

Yuta feels his soul leave his body. “That can’t be,” a knot ties on his throat, and he runs to sit down on the couch next to Ten. “Any irregularities? The number of rooms, the cost for the events, the number of employees?”

Ten shakes his head. “They’re all pretty regular,” he sighs. He clicks on the little tab called _revenue management._ It opens up a page that compares the resort’s rates to those of its competitors. “And their profits are technically in proportion to other resorts of the like. It all matches. This proves nothing."

“Fuck,” Yuta curses, running a hand through his hair. A few strands loosen up from the ponytail he’d styled himself with earlier, framing the perfect annoyance on his face. This can’t be happening. “Then where does all the money go to? We tracked a shit ton of money leaving an account linked to the resort. There has to be something.”

He’s dumbstruck, his mind going completely blank. It’s like a switch has been turned off on his brain, cluelessness taking over him slowly, almost mockingly. This can’t be it. They didn’t gather all this intel for anything. There has to be something there that can prove the illegal activity. He’s spent over a year on this case– it can’t just prove to be useless.

Ten doesn’t say anything, but the way his tongue sticks out from between his lips tells Yuta he’s probably thinking.

They have trustworthy intel about large amounts of money leaving the resort, but it’s not through its management. The numbers they report to the audit are the numbers they actually make, all earned through room bookings and recreational activities packed with rich people who can afford themselves to throw away their money on a massage and a decent margarita.

Rich people.

“Wait a second.”

Yuta turns to look at him, wondering what just popped on his mind. Ten scrolls down and through the program to find what he’s looking for, and when he does, his eyes glisten.

_Guest management and data._

As soon as he clicks on it, the screen displays a long list of names and data, starting from the resort’s early start in 2018 with the new owner, all the way to 2020. There’s information on every single guest that has ever stayed at the resort, from simple things such as their names to much more specific stuff like their addresses, or even a photo and a sample of their signature.

Ten can understand why they’d want to safe-keep this information– its misuse would come with a public backlash for not investing enough on a security system. If anyone could get access to it, there could be creeps getting the phone number of a female guest, or someone with dishonest intent could try and help themselves to the credit card information of one or more guests. He gets it.

But to go to such lengths as to make the system unhackable… No high prestige hotel or resort would even dare to spend so much money on such a thing.

There has got to be another reason.

“Maybe it’s not the resort itself,” Ten mumbles, hitting down keys to navigate through the section. He slides the cursor down the list of names before him. “Remember what we heard about _special guests?_ ”

Yuta’s eyes widen, realization hitting him. “Ten, you’re a genius,” he exclaims. Out of pure bliss, he holds Ten’s head between both his hands and plants a kiss to his temple, the way he usually does with Taeyong when he gets a crazy good idea.

But this isn’t Taeyong, and he probably should’ve realized this sooner, because now his ears feel like they’re burning and Ten’s grown stiff next to him and it’s just a _big_ mess. He tries playing it cool, jolting up from the couch to snatch the small notepad on his side table, along with a pen that says the resort’s name. “... Let’s get onto them, then.”

Ten agrees, nodding his head almost too enthusiastically.

The lists displayed in front of them make no sense for the first five minutes, but after they get used to it, they get a grip on how the software works. Special guests are highlighted in bright yellow, names of people they haven’t heard before but that booked platinum suites and all-inclusive packages like they cost nothing.

It takes them almost three hours, but the results are somewhat encouraging. They narrow it down to 10 suspects— seven of them are special guests, though three regulars gain their attention. 

The Youngs, in room 401, who paid for their room with three different credit cards.

The Kangs, in room 614, who keep getting weird discounts every time they come back.

And Mr. Kim, in room 905, their biggest suspect, who’s checked in at the hotel 3 times a year for the past two years, always asking for the same room. The catch? He uses a new identity each time, his last name in the system everchanging. And there’s no picture attached.

“Why would such a hotel allow that?” Yuta asks. The finger Ten points to his computer screen, to the big number indicating the amount in tips this man leaves, answers his question.

They have names, now they need proof.

One of these people has got to be The Boss.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He feels so powerless.

The next day is nerve-wrecking.

Turns out Taeyong isn’t the only one with weird inventions of his own. Ten had brought with him a small, flat device that looked like a credit card, a master key Johnny designed that works so well it’s impressive. Scratch that, it works _pretty fucking well,_ because it can crack open any door with a security system with just one slide.

By noon, they had already been into most of the suspects’ rooms. Yuta had been in charge of knocking, just to make sure no one was inside– and if they were, to easily fool them into thinking he’d gotten the wrong room– always making sure the coast was clear. Ten, on the other hand, had proven to be surprisingly good at not leaving a single trace. Even if he trashed the entire place looking for evidence, even if he messed with computers and other electronic devices, everything always looked the same when they walked in and when they walked out. It was a talent.

Yet, they’d found nothing so far.

Nothing relevant to the case, anyway. All they found in the Young’s room, were two wallets under the bed, with four credit cards apiece (“But all the cards are in their real names, so no multiple identities," Ten had said. Yuta could only think about how much debt they must have been in), and a positive pregnancy test on the Kang’s trash bin (to which Yuta _had_ to tease Ten about, for touching a stick that had been peed on).

Hanging onto their last string of hope, both take a deep breath before walking up to the last door on their list: door number 905 the one of a certain Mr. Kim, who frequently stays at the hotel, always reserving the same room. 

Ten sighs before reaching to pull the master key out from his back pocket, visibly discouraged by the apparently useless investigation. He feels tired, worn-out, and it doesn’t help his mood the fact that everything they’ve done so far hasn’t proved a single thing worth for the case. 

It’s day four, for fuck’s sake, and all they’ve managed to know is that this place _is_ as expensive as they make it seem and yet they serve pretty shitty coffee.

Ten looks so miserable, Yuta almost feels like cheering him up.

Except he doesn’t get to, because the clear sound of the elevator resonates in their ears, and they are very obviously _not_ supposed to be here.

By now, they practically deserve a freaking Oscar.

At any other time, they would find themselves with their hearts leaping up in their throat, doubling its tempo. They would most likely try to hide, or run away, anything to try and not get caught. But this time it’s different.

Yuta’s mind is clear, and so is Ten’s. They look at each other, eyes full of determination, and it’s almost telepathic when they agree on what they have to do.

“May I?” Yuta murmurs, quiet and in a pitch deeper than usual. His eyes flicker down to Ten’s mouth for a brief moment, and he takes a step closer. It makes Ten’s breath hitch.

The younger dips his head in a slight nod, unwilling to look away, and licks his lips.

When Yuta’s mouth meets his, it’s warm. Ten’s eyes flutter shut and he presses into the kiss, arms wrapping around the other’s waist almost automatically. It’s different than all the other times– it’s sweeter, softer, like it’s not meant to be anything more than kissing. There's a hand on his cheek now, cupping it and drawing him closer, thumb stroking along the arch of his cheek in time with the movement of Yuta’s lips. God, he's good at this.

Heat blooms in Ten’s chest at the tenderness, combating the knot of worry as the footsteps are practically behind them now, and the thrill of being caught moves through him, a spasm of flight or fight. He arches into Yuta, deepening the kiss, and the older cracks an eye open to make sure that...

The three men that appear down the corridor walk right past them, not even sparing a second glance at the couple kissing romantically outside what could very easily be their own room. The men just keep walking, unbothered, until they finally disappear inside room 910.

Ten and Yuta break apart after they hear the door close, but neither move away, hesitantly lingering within kissing distance, breathing each other in. The air between them is warm as they listen, still panting, to the silence following the men’s departure.

Ten swallows thickly, unable to find words. From so close he can see the different shades of brown in Yuta’s eyes, the reddened pink of his lips, the soft dark of his eyelashes.

"Yuta," he whispers, almost against his lips.

It makes the other suck in a deep breath. “We should probably go,” Yuta mumbles. His hands drop to both his sides in a rush, but the ghost of them lingers for less than a second on Ten’s skin. “It’s too risky. We can come back later.”

He doesn’t wait for Ten to answer.

Instead, he turns on his heels and starts walking back to the elevator.

* * *

“I’ve never felt this stupid before.”

“Ten,” Johnny’s voice says through the phone, stern tone meaning he’s upset. “Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” the younger says, plopping down on the bed. “Everything I’m doing— it’s all useless. It proves nothing. I’m going to rip my fucking hair off.”

Johnny sighs on the other side of the line. “Please don’t. Remember last time?” he asks. Ten does. “It’s going to be fine. Didn’t you say you still have one room left to check?”

“Yeah.”

“Then maybe that’ll be it!” his friend tries to cheer him up. “Who knows? Maybe that man will end up being The Boss. That would prove both the money-laundering and his involvement with it. And it’ll be a double win.”

“We don’t even have an excuse to go back into the ninth floor. If we’re caught again, we’ll get suspected. It’s too risky.”

“Maybe the risk is worth taking here.”

That sounds like something Yuta would say, Ten thinks.

He doesn’t reply, eyes closed and mouth pouting. Now that he thinks about it, thank God his partner went out for a snack at the vending machine, because Ten seriously feels like he’s on the verge of tears and about to throw a tantrum, and he definitely doesn’t need anyone to tease him about it.

Though who knows. After all he’s got to know about Yuta for the past few days, it may not seem like something he would do. 

Maybe he’d comfort him. 

The idea makes Ten laugh. 

“Oh God, you’re laughing. Are you losing your mind?” Johnny asks, seriously concerned for the sake of his friend’s mind.

“Probably,” Ten replies, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “I was just thinking that I’ve learned more about Yuta than the case so far. What the hell.”

Johnny hums against his ear. “Yuta. Not _Nakamoto_? Or how about _reckless asshole_? Y’all on first name terms now?”

“Get off my dick, John.”

“You wish I was on it in the first place,” his friend jokes, making both laugh. “You seem to be getting along well, though. I thought you wouldn’t even speak to one another the entire mission but, from what you tell me, you’ve been working a lot together.”

Ten rolls around on the bed. If anyone saw him right now, they wouldn’t believe this is the same uptight, serious agent he usually is. “Well...” he mumbles. He knows he probably shouldn't, but something at the back of his head tells him he must say what’s on his mind. Johnny’s always nagging him that friends share their thoughts, and he might as well actually be the only person Ten trusts. “Johnny?”

“Yeah?”

“Have you ever gone undercover as a couple before?”

“Huh? Not really why?” his friend asks, completely clueless. It takes way more than a few seconds for the realization to hit him and, when it does, he gasps so dramatically it hurts Ten’s ears. “ _Shut the fuck up._ Ten, are you and Yuta…?”

Ten almost wishes he hadn’t said anything. “It was a dumb thing he came up with because we nearly got caught.”

“A dumb thing he came up with alright. And you just decided to go along it?”

“... For the sake of the mission.”

The younger doesn’t understand why Johnny bursts into laughter. “Oh man, oh God, you are so cute. You are so _so_ cute. You haven’t even had your first kiss yet. Unless…?”

Ten can feel his ears turn red. They’re burning, his entire face is, and he curses at Johnny for even reminding him of that, and then curses at himself for even bringing this up, and then curses at Yuta for ever coming up with this dumb idea—

The silence speaks for him.

“Holy shit, Ten!” Johnny screams into his ear. “Are you telling me you’re going _full_ undercover couple? He actually kissed you?”

“Shut up, Johnny.”

“Was there tongue?”

“ _Johnny_!”

“I want every detail! Did he—?”

 _Click._ Phone call’s over.

Ten buries his face into the mattress, and if he could scream, he would. 

He’s tired of everything— the mission, the case, Johnny, Yuta, he’s tired of it all. In just the last four days he’s had so many feelings and so many emotions overcome him that he feels like he’ll pass out any second now. He’d tried to stay positive yesterday when they found out the money wasn’t being laundered through the resort. He’d tried to stay positive because Yuta was freaking out, but now he might as well start freaking out, too. His mind and body are exhausted, not allowing him to think clearly or do whatever he needs to do to solve the case, and it’s getting to him.

He feels so powerless.

Ten thinks of all the times he’s felt this way, of how everything always turned out well in the end, but it’s not enough. This time he’s not undercover at a government facility, he’s not riding his motorcycle while chasing after a well-known criminal. He’s not doing what he’s best at— gathering intel and breaking into places and kicking people’s ass and shooting from a distance, no.

He’s locked inside a hotel room, at a resort that’s somehow laundering money, but he doesn’t know how or why, and he can’t even find answers to either of those questions.

Make it worse— he’s undercover as a couple with Nakamoto Yuta, who he hates.

Or used to?

At this point, Ten doesn’t really know.

He thinks of everything’s that’s happened that has led them here. The kissing, the staring, the soft touches over his shoulder and hip when they walk into a room. At first, Ten hated it, he hated all of it, but he did it for the mission because that’s what he was supposed to do.

Now he’s not so sure, and he wonders what the hell is the warm feeling on his chest everytime he even just _looks_ at Yuta. It’s ridiculous.

He feels so powerless.

“Ten!” his partner’s voice calls as soon as the door cracks open. Yuta walks into Ten— slumped over their bed, his face buried into the mattress, and looking like he’s just been run over. “... You okay there, baby?”

Baby.

No one’s around to hear that. Why would he say that?

Ten lifts his head ever so slightly from the mattress and looks at him. There it is, that warmth again. “Yeah. What is it?”

Yuta clears his throat. He’s holding his phone is one hand and a bag of chips in the other, but he manages to close the door as delicately as he can, like he doesn’t want to make any kind of noise that will startle his partner. He walks over to sit down next to Ten on the bed, and the mattress dips under his weight. “I think we have the perfect excuse to come back and check that last room.”

He turns his phone to show to Ten. 

On the screen, there’s a text from Jeonghan, the man they met at the painting party on their second day. He’s inviting them over to his room for a small gathering he and his husband are having that evening with a few other guests, friends of them they made at Salsa Dancing class. There will be drinks and gossip, and a following text from Yuta says they’ll be there.

Ten is about to protest, to say no, but when Yuta slides down on the screen and shows him Jeonghan’s following text, he has to reconsider.

_We’ll be waiting for you! Our room is number 908!_

* * *

Ten has the perfect plan. 

They arrive at room 908 a couple of minutes after the time Jeonghan had invited them in. Yuta swears that being fashionably late is what people do nowadays, so Ten simply goes along with it. He isn’t in the mood to argue or put up a fight— he’s still tired and still feeling hopeless, and if tonight’s investigation leads nowhere he’s pretty sure he’s going to cry.

But that won’t happen, he reassures himself, because he has the perfect plan.

First, Ten allows himself to loosen up. He and Yuta accept the drinks Seungcheol offers them as soon as they walk into the room, a pair of bright-colored glasses that smell like perfume and pomegranate.

Ten hates the taste of it, but he drinks a decent amount in between conversations about old films and European cities. He drinks enough to pretend like he has drunk too much, and excuses himself from his chat with Seungcheol by saying he’ll step outside to get some air.

Before he leaves, he looks for Yuta.

“I’m going over to Mr. Kim’s room,” Ten tells his partner once he finds him, dealing on the other side of the room with a drunken, crying woman that apparently befriended Jeonghan that morning.

The woman has her head leaning over Yuta’s shoulder as she sobs, and Ten thinks he can almost see her leaving mascara stains all over his shirt, but the older doesn’t seem to mind. “Will you be okay going on your own?” Yuta whispers, more like he’s trying not to disturb her than to be secretive for the mission. “I don’t feel good about leaving her alone.”

Ten nods. “Yeah, it’s fine. I saw on the event program on the software that Mr. Kim signed up for movie night tonight, so he’s probably not in his room. I’ll be back soon.”

The drunk woman tries to stop him, asking Ten to stay so she can tell him her sad, sad story of how she and her newly divorced husband had spent their honeymoon here, and how this weekend would have been their anniversary. She begins sobbing as Yuta hands her a tissue, patting her back and saying soothing words. Ten feels that warmth again, like something blooming inside his chest at the kind exchange, at how comforting Yuta’s voice sounds.

But there’s no time to lose, so he leaves.

He feels like his plan is going much better than he’d imagined. With just enough luck, he’ll be able to get inside the suspicious guest’s room, and even perhaps get some answers out of it, like maybe incriminating evidence or ridiculous amounts of money hidden under the mattress.

Though, of course, luck doesn’t seem to be on his side, and things begin to spiral down the second he cracks the door open.

More specifically, the _closet_ door.

Ten takes a deep breath as he re-locks the room and everything inside it. He can keep his composure when confronted with a harness, several dildos, a cock ring, a butt plug and nipple clamps– after all, secret agents see all sorts of stuff– but disappointment makes him deflate immediately.

The look on his face as he comes back into Jeonghan’s and Seungcheol’s room is completely blank and poised, but he can’t quite cover the bright red shade his ears have become, the way his confident strut is just a half-pace off, or how stiff his shoulders look.

It has all been a bust; a dead-end.

Mr. Kim was the only thing that could have led them to the money-laundering source, to The Boss, and he just ended up being a sadistic, kinky fuck.

Yuta raises an eyebrow at Ten the second he sees him zombie-walk into the room. The drunken woman has been taken care of, now peacefully sleeping on Jeonghan’s side of the bed, drool making way from her mouth down onto the sheets.

“So?” the older asks when his partner finally stands in front of him.

Ten shakes his head no.

There’s something about the way he looks that makes Yuta feel sorry for him. He knows how important solving the case was for Ten, and even though he’d felt annoyed and irritated by his presence at first, Yuta had grown to understand that, after all, Ten was just doing his job.

And now, he’d practically failed. To Ten it must feel like he’s dying.

“We’re screwed,” the younger pouts, emotion taking over him. Yuta’s scared he’s gonna burst into tears any second now. “All we’ve got is a whole bunch of useless information that proves what we already knew. We leave _tomorrow_ , Yuta,” he mumbles. Ten leans forward until his forehead is leaning against Yuta’s chest, and he sighs. “What do we even do at this point?”

Ten can feel discouragement in his chest, waiting to take over. Perhaps it’s there to protect him, to put up a wall and keep everyone out, even if there really isn't any danger. It sits there, like an angry ball propelling him towards anxiety he just doesn't need. All the reasons why he’s failed flood in, as if his brain decided to play a movie of everything he has been doing wrong. Ten feels soft panic taking over him, one that grows or fades depending on what he thinks. It fades if he thinks that tomorrow they have another chance to find _something_ , but then it grows if he thinks that they might not be able to find anything tomorrow either. 

He feels so powerless.

Ten breathes in real slow, the thoughts taking over him and making him tremble. It’s the first time Ten actually looks like he doesn’t know what to do, and it weights Yuta down worse than he thought it would. At any other time in the past, he probably would have _enjoyed_ seeing Ten this defeated, or think that hopefully, this will make him humble down a little bit.

But it’s not like that anymore.

Right now, they’re… friends, right? To keep calling Ten only his partner almost sounds cold– as if they were just standing each other out of an arrangement made by their agency, or for the sake of the case.

It just wasn’t that anymore.

Many would think that he’s wrong, but Yuta is someone who treasures the people in his life more than anything. Having grown up in an environment where he wasn’t really noticed nor cared for, he always made sure to notice those around him and care for them the way they deserved to. That included Ten now, too.

Hell, Yuta could go as far as saying that he’d earned himself a place in his heart, even if he didn’t yet dare to say it out loud. They had created a bond, had become something more than just two people working together. Because yeah, they still bickered and bothered each other, and yeah, they had their differences, but that didnmt matter now. 

Right now, Yuta would probably even take a bullet for Ten if he ever had to. Because that’s what friends do, right?

That’s why he feels, deep within him, that if he would die for Ten, then he might as well comfort him, too.

“You said it yourself, we leave tomorrow. We still have time solve the case,” Yuta says, even though it sounds impossible even to himself. “We’ll start from scratch, look at all of our options together. It’s not over yet, Ten. We have time, and we’re a great team. We can do it.”

Ten looks up at him with glassy eyes, defenses down from the alcohol he’d drank earlier. He nods a little bit, mostly to convince himself, and Yuta offers him a smile that somehow makes him feel better.

Yeah, they’ll solve this tomorrow.

Tonight, they should relax. They’ve done what they could.

They head back to the rest of the still semi-conscious people, a very intoxicated Jeonghan offering them another round of strong colored drinks, inviting them into the lively circle of people still laughing and drinking. Yuta convinces Ten to down his glass, telling him that it’ll make him feel better, that it’ll loosen up the knot on his throat. In just a few minutes, both their cups are empty, and they hesitantly agree to the second row of drinks another man offers them.

Then a third, and maybe a fourth.

By the fifth, Ten almost forgets what he was so upset about.

Each drink offered seems like a better and better idea. The people get nicer, the stories more interesting, and Yuta becomes a comedian of epic proportions. Under the influence of alcohol, everything seems like fun. Conversations that under usual circumstances would make Ten wary, become thrilling as a result of muddled words, loss of filter and a burning desire to be brutally honest. There is, of course, a small voice quietly nagging at the back of their heads, reminding them of the case, of the lack of evidence. They know that they won’t be feeling this way tomorrow and that their actions tonight will have repercussions, and perhaps ones of great severity, but neither of them mind.

They accept another drink and find support in each other’s arms through the rest of the night.

* * *

It’s almost 3 AM when they get back.

Yuta isn’t sure what he expected for when they were eventually alone in their room, but to be pinned against the wall the moment the door closed, hot mouth on his own, is not something he’d bet would happen.

It’s... Well, they’ve kissed before, and it’s not the first time Ten initiated it, but it is the first time either of them does so _willingly_. Ten holds Yuta’s face between his hands, pulling him towards him, tasting his lips, and despite the obvious unexplored sexual tension between them, there’s something more fragile there.

This kiss isn't for the mission– it isn't for the sake of not getting caught, or deflection, or distraction– this one's for them, and Ten pours his heart into it.

When Yuta’s brain finally catches up, he places his hands on Ten’s waist, pulling him closer, chasing after his mouth. They kiss with fervor, hungry for more. Even as the younger’s tongue pushes into his own again, Yuta still finds himself craving. He feels Ten’s hands tangle in his wild locks, stealing gasps of breath between heated kisses, grasping with something like desperation.

They break apart for breath and it’s so natural for them to switch positions, Ten allowing the wall to be his only support as he tilts his head to the side and lets Yuta nuzzle at his throat, his ear, leaving a damp path of kisses in his wake. Yuta hums into the kisses, running his fingers down Ten’s chest, taking silent delight in how rumpled he’s going to look.

He sucks a bright red mark on the side of Ten’s throat, a love bite that blooms quickly and floods him with a heat that sinks to his gut. Ten does his best to remember how did it even come down to this, as Yuta licks up to his jaw again and nibbles at his ear.

He leans up for Yuta’s lips again. They part under his, and the groan in Ten’s throat isn’t just an act when Yuta slips his tongue into his mouth, hot and wet. He fumbles for the older’s shirt, fisting at the fabric that gets in his way.

Yuta pulls back to look at Ten, the hand on his jaw slipping down as he runs a thumb across the swollen, kiss-bitten pink of Ten’s lower lip. His mouth twitches into a smirk at Ten’s most vulnerable look, and he nudges a leg between his, pushing their bodies together.

Ten’s breath hitches again as he feels himself flush.

"Yuta," he says, a whine creeping into his voice. He gets lost in the friction, his hands still fisted in Yuta’s shirt, and he uses his grip to tug him into a bruising kiss that feels like it could knock him off his feet with its intensity.

Ten links his ankles together behind Yuta’s back, the older holding him up against the wall, hands cradling the underside of his thighs. There's a glint in his eye as Yuta leans up into him for a kiss– his hair is all out of sorts, and since when is that endearing as well as hot?

Oh, Ten’s fucked.

And not even in the good literal sense, at least not yet.

They kiss the way they’ve been doing for the past few days, all teeth and tongue, adjusting for the change in position, but it quickly softens as they find a pace. The moan that bubbles up in Ten’s throat is genuine– Yuta does this one thing with his tongue and Ten momentarily loses all semblance of control– and it sounds loud in the quietness of their room, undeniably erotic to his own ears. He rocks his hips experimentally, flushing at how warm Yuta is where their bodies are pressed together, the sensation of his entire weight being carried so easily by the older.

He feels so powerless against it– the feeling of Yuta holding him up against the wall, the firm muscles of his hips and chest, the attentive ministrations of his hands.

Yuta can't help himself, either. When they break apart to gasp for breath, he presses a line of kisses up Ten’s neck with loud, wet sounds, trailing his way to his jaw. Ten responds beautifully, breath hitching with every kiss Yuta leaves on his skin, fingers flexing in the fabric at the back of his shirt–

He feels so powerless.

He loves it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is an act, isn’t it?

Warm. 

Ten slowly rises to consciousness, sleepily clinging to the warmth that envelops him. 

As the dreams start to fade, he slowly becomes aware of the weight over him, far too heavy to be a blanket. At first, he thinks nothing of it, until said weight pulls him closer and sighs into his hair. 

With a start, Ten is suddenly awake and staring wide-eyed at the broad, incredibly naked chest in front of him. He inhales sharply in panic, the scent of sex and sweat flooding his senses and making him feel faint and dizzy. Reorienting himself, he gently tries to untangle himself from a lightly snoring Yuta, blood pounding in his ears.

Abruptly, the snoring ceases and is replaced with a sleepy groan. Ten freezes. Chancing a look up, he finds himself staring into bleary, curious eyes with one quirked eyebrow. Ten can’t help it– a blush blooms across his cheeks and his ears, and probably his neck and chest and every inch of skin. _Fuck_.

Yuta himself doesn’t have a better reaction.

He practically _pushes_ Ten away from him the second he realizes what’s going on, scooting back on the bed until there’s no more bed and he falls onto the ground with a heavy thud.

Thank God he’s got underwear on. 

“... Hi,” Ten tests to speak first, pulling onto the sheets to cover himself up.

Yuta lets out a huff of air he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “... Hi,” he laughs nervously, frozen in place.

It's painfully awkward, and the raging headache they both have isn’t really helping.

It’s not like Ten doesn’t remember what happened last night— because he _does_ , and very vividly at that, and he can’t even convince himself it’s not true because even if his mind didn’t remember, his body definitely does.

He wonders if Yuta does, too.

But before either of them can open their mouths again to say anything, let alone ask, constant knocking on the door saves them, and Yuta scrambles up on both his feet in under a second. “I should get that,” he says awkwardly, running over to the door in hurried steps.

Ten takes notice of something, and he runs and calls after him to try and stop him, but it’s too late.

It’s not until the door’s wide open that Yuta remembers his lack of clothes. And, coincidentally, Ten’s too.

Seungcheol gasps, quickly turning around and covering his eyes. Jeonghan simply laughs. “Seems like you had a very good afterparty!” he teases, craning his neck to look inside the room, at the clothes his friends were definitely wearing yesterday now messily scattered around the floor.

Ten tries covering himself with his arms, and Yuta has to fight against the urge of slamming the door right on their friend’s faces. “Hah, yeah… We kind of got really fucking drunk last night.”

“Oh, man, so did we,” Seungcheol says, shaking his head in empathy. He’s still got his back turned. “Which is why we wanted to see if you wanted to go get brunch with us. You know, to cure the hangover.”

“It’s also our last day here and we wanted to say goodbye,” Jeonghan adds, nudging his husband to stop being a prude and turn around.

The remainder of today being their last day at the resort, their last day to solve the case, creeps up into Yuta’s mind, guilt taking over him as he thinks of a way to politely decline the offer without sounding suspicious. For some reason, he feels like he owes it to Ten to completely focus on the mission today, on finding evidence and plot holes and just about _anything_ that can help them wrap this whole thing up.

But as he thinks of an excuse, Ten speaks on his behalf.

“We’d love to,” he smiles at the couple, hiding halfway behind the door. “It’s also our last day today so we might as well take advantage of that breakfast menu. Meet you downstairs in an hour?”

Jeonghan gives him a thumbs up. “Perfect. We’ll go back to our room in the meantime. Gotta pack our bags!”

Seungcheol waves a hand. “See you soon!”

They say their goodbyes and leave in under ten minutes. Yuta just stands there the whole time, and even after they’re gone he can’t quite process what just happened. Ten closes the door for him, still painfully aware of how exposed his skin is, of how Yuta’s eyes scan him like this is the first time he’s ever seen him.

It’s awkward again.

Ten clears his throat. “Well, I better take a shower and get ready. You can use the bathroom after me,” he says hurriedly, quickly making his way around the room and heading to grab a change of clothes from his suitcase.

Yuta says nothing, and Ten doesn’t even dare look at him.

Instead, he simply runs off into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him, leaning against the cold hard wood to close his eyes and collect himself.

* * *

When Yuta gets out of the shower, Ten is laying in bed.

He’d tried preparing himself for what he was going to get back to. He’d expected to see the younger the same way he’s gotten used to seeing him the past few days— with his laptop over his lap, brows furrowed and tongue sticking out between his lips, all of his attention on the screen. He’d expected to see him staring at their intel, ignoring Yuta, trying to look for bits of information he may have overlooked, analyzing their options and coming up with three new plans in the span of 15 minutes. That’s just the Ten in Yuta’s mind: determined, dedicated, someone who doesn’t give up.

But when he walks back into the room, what actually meets him is Ten— laying in bed and scrolling down his phone.

Yuta has to blink twice to make sure he’s not hallucinating.

“What are you doing?” he asks, expecting to hear the other say he’s contacting Johnny, or maybe even Kun, to find alternatives or plot holes inside a new plan he thought of in the shower.

Instead of replying, Ten merely turns his phone in Yuta’s direction. The somber expression on his face is a sad contrast to the content on his screen.

Cat videos.

It’s as uncharacteristic as oddly fitting.

Yuta simply nods, and turns around to run a brush down his hair. Through the vanity mirror, he can still get a glimpse of Ten, gloomily scrolling down his phone, an unreadable look in his eyes. He wonders for a second if he’s thinking about the same thing Yuta is– the desperate, alcohol-induced desire that led them to act out of the plan, to do something that wasn’t part of the mission. Yuta can feel his face heat up as he remembers, but it’s not something he particularly regrets. In fact, all it really does is just make him feel confused. His heart races inside his chest and he realizes his mind is all _Ten_ , but right now it's not the time to try and figure out what it all means.

Right now, Yuta thinks of what to say, worried about how quiet his partner is, about why he seems almost sad, like he’s lost hope. He’d definitely expected Ten to act like nothing had happened, to drown himself in the case to avoid talking about last night, about the tickling ghost of Yuta’s lips on his skin. But instead he’s agreeing on going out to eat, and leaving his laptop closed in the corner of the room, and scrolling down his phone looking at videos of cats falling asleep. It almost seems like what he’s avoiding instead is the case–

Oh. The case.

Today is their last day.

Yuta knows Ten enough to know how he must be feeling. After their failure yesterday trying to frame one of the guests, they’re back on step one and running out of time. The information they need will probably never come and, no matter how much they seek, it’s unlikely they’ll find in a day what they couldn’t find in a week. In the past year Yuta had been working on this case, he’d learned that some things are inevitable, and that he won’t always be able to solve a case on the first mission or the next.

That didn’t mean it’d stop making him feel shitty, though.

He’d seen it in Ten’s eyes last night the moment he came back to the party with nothing– that feeling of hopelessness that sticks to the back of the brain, the thought that he could try all day, investigate everywhere, go back to pointing out suspects and bursting through doors… Yet end up with nothing anyway.

And considering Ten’s competitive and prideful nature, it must really feel like it’s the end for him.

Pushing the thought of last night out of his head, Yuta does his best to lift up his partner’s spirits. “Maybe we can find something at brunch,” he offers, trying to sound optimistic even if he doesn’t really believe that himself. “You know how much Jeonghan loves gossiping. He could’ve heard something and tell us.”

When Ten speaks, he doesn’t tear his eyes away from his phone. “We were with him last night while he was stupid drunk. If he knew something, he would’ve told us already."

He’s right. But Yuta doesn’t give up. “Well then, maybe we’ll find the creepy man from day one? The bartender who almost stalked us into our room. What was up with that guy, anyway?”

To that, too, Ten finds an explanation. “The receptionist came up to me the day after that. Apparently, he was on his break when he saw I’d left my glasses on the table. He was just trying to give them back.” 

_How come he didn’t tell me that earlier?_ Yuta thinks. Now he feels like an asshole for calling the man creepy, and he’s running out of options. His eyes fall over Ten’s laptop, forgotten at the corner of the couch, and he gives it one last try. “Hey, why don’t we go through the software again? Maybe we missed something.”

“We didn’t.”

“I just think maybe we could find—”

“Nothing,” Ten says, his voice stern. He’s finally looked up from his phone, the look in his eyes sending chills running down Yuta’s back, almost making him want to take a step back. He looks scary, but also faintly miserable, and it makes Yuta feel bad for some reason. “We’ll find _nothing_ , Yuta. I went through it thrice yesterday before going to Jeonghan’s, and there was nothing. No irregular transactions, no inconsistent information, no hints of anyone in this fucking place doing anything fishy. I failed, the mission’s fucked, and there’s nothing left to do."

Although his voice is near breaking more than once, it never does. Silence follows his words, and Ten expects it to end there.

But this is Yuta he’s talking to, so of course it doesn’t.

“We,” the older says.

Ten furrows his brows. “What?"

“You said the same thing last time,” Yuta sighs, setting down the brush in his hand and turning around to meet eyes with Ten. No matter how much the look in his eyes hurts him, he holds it, not wanting the other to miss any of the words he’s about to say. “On that case, 3 years ago. You were so upset, telling Johnny over and over again _I failed_ , but you didn’t do it alone, Ten. _We_ failed.”

Yuta remembers it, almost too vividly.

Right after their Sergeant had yelled at them for the failed mission, Yuta had walked out of there with a shrug, not letting that one mistake bother nor define him. He’d left the Sergeant’s office with his head held high, but the second he noticed it hadn’t been the case for Ten, he’d actually felt bad. Bad, because if the mission failed it wasn’t Ten’s fault. Yuta could’ve been more careful, he could’ve waited to act, and that way maybe the man stealing all those diamonds wouldn’t have caught onto them and escaped.

He’d felt so bad, Yuta had tried to look for Ten and apologize.

What he’d found instead was Ten, sobbing against Johnny’s chest and repeating _I failed, I failed, I failed,_ over and over again, like a mantra he was going to live by starting that day.

And perhaps Yuta should’ve stepped in. Perhaps he should’ve comforted him then like he felt the need to. 

But then Ten had silently cursed at him, and it felt like he thought of him so highly he coldn’t accept that he’d failed as a team.

“We failed,” Yuta repeats, his voice shaking only slightly. “We’re a team, Ten, we worked together this week and we worked together years ago. We haven’t even failed on this yet, but if you want to start beating yourself up about it starting now, at least add me in. Don’t carry the burden alone,” he says, finally giving in and looking down. “Or else it’s going to kill you.” 

He knows what it’s like, he really does. Unlike Ten, Yuta has had his fair share of missions he _actually_ failed on his own, most of them regarding this particular case. He knows what it’s like to feel like he’s fucked up, like it’s his fault it couldn’t get solved. If only he were faster, smarter, braver. If only he were better.

Ten doesn’t say anything, doesn’t fight back. So Yuta continues. “I’ve worked on this case for over a year. I know you think I’m a shit agent compared to you and that you could’ve solved it by now but I’m telling you– it’s a hard one. There’s barely any evidence, we don’t even know what The Boss fucking looks like, and whatever we go after is based on a hunch. At this point, it’s not even about strategy, but rather luck. We didn’t fail, Ten. We just weren’t lucky enough.” 

The air between them feels thin, so brittle it could snap. Neither of them says anything for a little while, drowning in a silence that weighs them down.

Ten’s voice is small when he speaks. “I don’t think that.” 

Yuta looks at him slowly. “What?"

“I don’t think you’re a shit agent compared to me,” the other mumbles, too busy playing with the strings of his hoodie to look up at his partner. “In fact, I think you’re better than me.” 

Yuta doesn’t say anything, just stands there looking like he doesn’t understand what language the other’s speaking on.

Ten sighs. “That time… Mark got injured because of me. Had you not been on that case...” his voice cracks then and there, at the memory of the younger agent getting shot in the shoulder. Ten had ordered him to stay there because that’s what was written in the plan. Had Yuta not stepped in, he could’ve been killed. “That time I failed not only on solving the case, but on protecting my people. You would never let that happen.”

Yuta doesn’t know what to say, so he simply listens.

“You’re naturally a quick thinker, Yuta. When something doesn’t go as it was supposed to, you come up with a solution in the spot and are willing to take the risk. Dumb risks, truthfully, but risks that prove to work at the end of the day,” he shakes his head, remembering things he wishes he couldn’t. “There’s been a bunch of times in my career where I could’ve done things differently, out of the plan, in order to solve the case or save my teammates from danger. But I never do. I’m too scared,” Ten finally looks up, crystalized eyes trembling slightly as he meets Yuta’s. “You never seem to be scared. I think that makes you better.”

Ten’s stomach shifts uneasily as the other simply stares at him, not knowing how to react to what he just heard. Ten, who’d been hugging himself, notices the way his hands are now pinching into his skin, nails digging down to stop him from trembling. He releases himself softly, but can't quite figure out what to do with his hands next, as if in constant need of touch and reassurance.

Yuta notices this, and he almost feels like reaching out to hold them.

Instead he just sighs.

He makes his way to the bed to sit down next to Ten, and their knees brush as he sinks down into the mattress. The touch is oddly comforting to the both of them, and a sad smile pulls at Yuta’s lips as he speaks again. “Well, sorry to break it to you, but I’m always scared. One wrong move and the whole mission can be put at stake.”

His voice is soft, and strangely enough Ten misses its usual loudness.

“You keep saying reckless has kept you alive,” he mumbles.

Yuta laughs a bitter laugh. “If I lie to myself enough maybe I’ll believe it. The number of times I’ve put mine or my team’s life at risk have been far more than the times I’ve saved them… Just thinking about it gives me chills. I would never forgive myself if something happened to them because of me,” he shrugs, an uncharacteristic gloom shadowing his face. “Plans are good, plans keep people safe. Plans have helped you solve every single case you’ve worked on, which means you’re good. If this one failed, it’s because it was doomed the second you got partnered up with me.”

Ten shakes his head no. “Don’t say that,” he almost whispers, smiling just ever so slightly. “We’ve been a good team.”

“We have, haven’t we?” Yuta cheers up a little bit. The usual glow in his eyes is back, and it makes Ten’s chest feel warm. “Just… Cheer up, okay? You didn’t fail then, and you haven’t failed today. Don’t doubt your abilities based off things that weren’t in your hands. This is not the last chance we’ll ever get of catching The Boss, and maybe next time we’ll be lucky,” he says, then stops to think. “If you accept to work with me again, that is.”

It’s good to hear when Ten laughs. “It would be nice. We’ll certainly be lucky next time,” he nods, his faith restored just enough to make him smile. “Thank you, Yuta. I needed that."

“Don’t mention it,” Yuta nudges his knee, attempting to lighten up the mood a little bit. “I’m glad you’re feeling better. Your crying cat face was starting to make me uncomfortable.”

The comment drags an embarrassed laugh out of Ten, who nudges his partner harder, attempting to push him out the bed. They laugh together for a couple of seconds, teasing each other about the talk they just had, Yuta taking the advantage to demand more compliments out of Ten, who keeps pushing him away and saying “ _I take it back!_ ”

They stare into each other’s eyes as laughter dies down, ghosting around in the shape of a smile.

Like turned on with a switch, memories of last night flash inside both their minds, bits and glimpses making their hearts race, ther skin tingle. It’s not only last night what they remember— it’s the entire week they’ve spent together. The casual stares, the constant touch. The feeling of their lips clashing and their hands wandering, all for the mission, all for the sake of keeping up appearances before others.

Right now there are no others, no one but the two of them inside that room, sitting on that bed… Yet both look at the other’s lips, wondering.

Ten had never really paid much attention to Yuta before coming here. Now, his heart is thumping so hard he could swear it’s audible.

There’s just something about the way Yuta smiles that makes him feel at ease, like everything’s going to be okay and he really has nothing to worry about. There’s something about his kindness and honesty, always making sure Ten is okay. There’s something about his creativity, the way he sees things making ideas spark up in his mind in ways Ten could probably never do.

Yuta himself is no better, taken aback at how lost he feels in Ten.

It’s not that he hadn't ever imagined feeling like this– a man that moves the way Ten does can definitely turn heads– but this certainly wasn't how Yuta pictured his week going when they'd left Vision headquarters. He gets lost in him, in all the little things he’s learned about him, so different from what he used to think of him. Like how there’s always a smile just waiting to be tempted out behind his slightly pursed lips. How sometimes he looks at Yuta and the latter doesn’t even have to try to smile, it just comes naturally. How Ten blushes ever so slightly at affection, gets easily flustered when getting teased.

He gets so lost in the few things he knows about Ten, yet he finds himself wanting to learn even more.

They smile at each other slightly, nervous. Yuta’s hands are shaking slightly, heart beating so loudly he can’t even concentrate. It feels like he’s going to explode. He reaches up to cup Ten’s cheek, the skin slowly turning red. The touch is soft, simple, but it feels so gentle and so careful Ten almost melts right there.

They lean in, almost in slow motion, almost like they’re too scared to do so. 

… But when Yuta’s phone dings, both scatter back like deers in headlights.

_We’re already at the restaurant!_ Jeonghan’s text reads. _Saved your seats xx._

* * *

They make their appearance as natural as they are capable of.

They greet Seungcheol and Jeonghan as soon as they see them, sitting down on a table near the window, with a view to the sea. The couple wave their arms and point down to the two chairs in front of them, inviting Yuta and Ten to take a seat and look at the menu.

Even though coming here was his idea, Ten has a hard time talking with the couple. He seems distracted, his conversation repetitive and clumsy, and Yuta has to step in and save him more than once, before he can say anything that could compromise them or their facade. Yuta wonders if he’s still thinking about the talk they had back at their room, if he’s lost confidence in himself and in his ability to gather intel and come up with solutions. All traces of determination to solve the case seem to have disappeared from his eyes, and Yuta feels just slightly sad about it— like it’s not really Ten the one sitting next to him, his partner replaced instead by an insecure, awkward version of himself that can’t even hold a conversation with people he’s known for days.

Yuta kinda misses the old Ten.

His motivational ted-talk had helped the younger feel a tiny bit better over his last plan failing, raising up his hopes of next time being better. But there’s still a bitter taste left in his mouth that won’t let him try to come up with a new plan just yet, and their time is running out.

Maybe this is it. Maybe Ten can’t solve every case, after all.

He feels Yuta’s arm wrap around him, almost like he can read his mind and is trying to offer support. The hand on his shoulder squeezes slightly and rubs gently, a silent reassurance that tells him it’s okay to feel a certain way.

The gesture could have easily been read as romantic affection as well, which would work for their act… If only they could look at each other in the eye.

Neither could even hold their own gaze in the mirror before leaving their room, the almost-kiss they shared arising a thousand different thoughts and questions in their minds. Ten could still practically _feel_ Yuta’s hand cupping his cheek, and the constant beating of his heart wouldn’t let Yuta forget much either.

And don’t even get them started on what happened last night.

To prevent himself from either going insane or turning red, Yuta suddenly asks the couple in front of them how they met, and it buys him a couple of minutes of distraction as Seungcheol shares a lovely story about a bus stop and a lost phone.

But the question blows up right on his face when Jeonghan asks them how _they_ met.

They did not plan this.

Yuta starts to panic, nervous laughter overtaking his speech as he tries to say “ _It’s a long story!_ ”, waving his hand like trying to sweep the topic away.

Ten has gotten quite good at improvising, though. “At work,” he says, turning to Yuta and shoving his shoulder with his own. It’s kind of the truth, though not really, and it should be enough to keep the couple satisfied. “His office is right across from mine, so we just couldn’t help falling in love, right?”

Yuta raises his eyebrows, and he breaks into a smile that hardly seems fake. “Right _._ I never would’ve thought he’d actually fall for me,” he gives a deep chuckle. 

“How could I not?” Ten laughs, leaning against the older affectionately. 

“That’s so sweet! Love at first sight, then?” Seungcheol teases with a big smile on his face. Both him and Jeonghan lean over the table, abandoning their food to pay all of their attention to the happy couple in front of them. 

Ten’s about to nod his head yes to please them and get all this over with, but Yuta’s faster than him.

“... Afraid not. When we first met, we drove each other mad,” he chuckles low, and Ten nearly elbows him in the gut for putting their cover in danger. If he says no, they’ll ask, and if they ask, they have to elaborate on the answer. He’s about to protest, play the offended part, but a warm hand on his thigh makes him stop.

And when Yuta starts rubbing circles on Ten’s thigh with said hand, the younger can’t do anything but listen.

“See, we’re both very different. I’m more of a free spirit, a play-by-my-own-rules kind of guy. But Ten here…” a smile creeps up Yuta’s lips. It’s almost dreamy. “He’s very meticulous and diligent at everything he does, especially if it’s work related. I found it kind of annoying, how hung up he was about details, about doing everything perfectly when such a thing doesn’t exist…” the thumb rubbing circles on Ten’s thigh pauses as he says this, but then he gives a light squeeze and looks at him.

Ten’s heart hammers wildly.

He can’t possibly be… This is an act, isn’t it? Ten’s mind flies in circles, and his chest fills with a flurry of emotions as it begins rapidly beating again. He feels confusion, irritation, panic.

Longing?

It becomes worse when Yuta smiles, almost shyly. It’s small, barely there, and can easily be just a part of an act– but Ten finds every emotion swirling in him wanting to burst out through his chest.

Throughout the last few days, especially since Taeyong had said that one thing that had raised all of the hairs on Yuta’s neck, he’d thought about it one or two (or four hundred) times– what it would be like to be with Ten, now that they were actually friends and Ten no longer hated him (most of the time).

Yuta himself hadn’t even really tolerated Ten ever after their last case together. But then this mission happened, and everything sort of just shifted on its axis. 

“It wasn’t until we actually _had_ to work together that I began to see him for what he really was,” Yuta keeps his eyes locked on Ten as he speaks, wanting to make sure he’s listening. He wants him to knows this. “Ten is dedicated, observant, brilliant. The hardest worker I’ve ever met. Once I saw that– once I saw him for who he really was– I was unable to take my eyes off of him. I was captivated. Still am, to be quite honest.”

The hammering stops.

Seungcheol and Jeonghan start gushing and congratulating them, which leaves Ten blushing fiercely, frozen in place, eyes still staring into the other’s. He can’t find a single trace of mock in them, nothing that could unmask any kind of prank Yuta might be pulling, and Ten doesn’t know whether to feel relieved or scared.

One more word and the younger might crumble.

“You guys are so cute,” Jeonghan smiles, leaning onto Seungcheol shoulder. “Any plans for marriage soon?”

Talk about a way to make things worse. 

Yuta nearly chokes on his drink, and Ten can’t quite possibly melt any more into his seat. Both let out a nervous laugh that, luckily enough, their friends interpret as shyness, and they laugh, too.

Seungcheol nudges his husband. “Let them breathe.”

“I’m just saying! It’s a bummer you guys are leaving today,” the other pouts. “You should stay one more night to participate on tonight’s raffle. You know, get a chance to win that all-expenses paid trip to the Bahamas to use as a honeymoon.”

He breaks into a story about his and Seungcheol’s nightmare honeymoon, one that apparently included a blackout and getting banned for life from Italy or something along those lines. Ten doesn’t know– he isn’t listening. His mind is a complete mess right now and he’s trying too hard to sort out everything that just happened– but a particular thing Jeonghan said gets stuck to his mind, like a tetris piece that just doesn’t quite fit with the rest.

As Yuta’s meaning to bring up just about _anything_ to divert the conversation away from marriage and honeymoon talk, Ten interrupts. “Sorry but… What raffle?” he asks.

Yuta sighs in relief. At least he took care of that. 

Seungcheol speaks after taking a sip from his coffee. “Did you not sign up to the resort’s newsletter? We did, and got an invitation right after booking our room,” he says. Neither of the agents had heard about it before– the agency had taken care of booking their rooms and anything related to the resort, so neither had really looked into that. “Apparently they have these charity raffles every few months. You donate at least 50 thousand won to a charity from a list and get to participate for a trip to Bahamas.”

“It’s kind of cool because even if you don’t win, they give you a discount for next time you come back,” Jeonghan adds, sighing. “We wanted to stay but the nanny can’t handle our kids for too long. They’re a handful.”

Yuta turns around to look at his partner after this, and he feels his heart rate increase as he realizes– Ten is thinking of something. He can practically _see_ the wheels inside his brain turning, coming up with a plan, thinking of how this might be a major piece in the game. 

It makes him feel so proud, he decides to step in.

“Could you maybe… resend us that email?” Yuta tests his luck, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Oi, you’re considering the honeymoon thing now, aren’t you?” Jeonghan laughs, picking up his phone from the table and unlocking it. “I’ll resend it. But if you win, we better get invited to that wedding!”

They exchange emails then and, thankfully, the conversation moves on to Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s children, and about how much they miss them and can’t wait to see them again. They stay in order to keep up appearances and because they genuinely like the couple they’ve befriended, but Ten can’t bring himself to fully engage in the situation, thoughts swirling inside his mind.

The worst of them being that fucking hand.

Yuta still has his hand on Ten’s thigh, and he keeps rubbing those circles in that slow pace that set Ten on fire. 

The hand stays there through the rest of lunch– Yuta eats with one hand–, through conversations, and even through a cup of coffee. All the time, it stays there, still rubbing circles, squeezing slightly. And through it all, Ten can’t calm down. He feels more anxious, if possible, to leave this place.

Only after they say goodbye to the couple and share a promise to keep in touch, does the hand finally leaves Ten’s thigh– if only in favor for his waist. It still keeps him on edge, but he’s more used to this feeling. They’d been doing it all weekend, after all.

This is an act, isn’t it?

* * *

  
  


“Here’s the email,” Yuta hands Ten his phone as soon as they enter their room.

The other receives the device, bowing his head a little. “Thank you,” he says, his voice small. He wants to talk about everything that Yuta said at lunch– his talk about meeting Ten and getting to know him– but it feels like a conversation they should have later. The case comes first. “And thank you for getting it for me.”

Yuta shrugs. “You looked like you were onto something,” he smiles. “Was I right?”

Ten nods, smiling back a little, and turns back to the phone before his face has time to turn red.

He reads the email out loud.

“ _Thank you for subscribing to our newsletter!_

_With your reservation, we offer you an invitation to this month’s charity raffle, were our guests receive great discounts and fantastic gifts by donating to a cause they are passionate about!_

_For every 50 thousand won you donate to a charity on our list, you’ll receive savings of 10 to 50 percent off the resort’s listed rates and a chance to win an all-expenses paid trip to the Bahamas!_

_Guests may choose between charities that work in wildlife, human rights, arts & music, education, environment, health, disaster relief or animal welfare. _

_Donations are made through the link down below, where you’ll find information about the charities associated with our resort_.

_The raffle will be held at a dance party on Friday, February 28th at the Central Venue inside our resort, at 8 PM sharp, where you’ll be able to enjoy live music, a delicious dinner and an open bar. To gain access to the event, just present your transaction receipt at the entrance._

_Have fun!_ ”

As read on the email, there’s a blue colored link Ten clicks on after reading, which takes him to a page similar to the resort’s website, but with far less buttons and ads. It’s a plain pale yellow screen that lists down around 10 different charities from all over the world, summarizing what they specialize on. Ten runs his eyes through them quickly, reading as fast as he can.

Under all that text, a red fill out form appears, asking the guest to type in the organization of their choosing and their credit card information to make the donation.

It all starts making so much sense it’s almost scary.

“This is it,” he says under his breath, his knees giving out and making him sit down on the bed. “Holy shit.”

Yuta walks up to sit down next to him. “Please don’t kill me,” he mumbles, looking at Ten like he’s some sort of art piece he doesn’t quite understand. “But I have no idea what the fuck is going on.”

Had he not been so over the moon, Ten would’ve probably killed Yuta. “The charity!” he exclaims, turning the phone towards his partner. “Think about it. They show this only to few people– those subscribed to their newsletter, regular guests. They make small transactions to one single account _linked_ to the resort, but the money doesn’t go to its expenses, so it doesn’t have to show on the software.”

“... That’s where they make the laundering,” Yuta finishes, his vision growing clearer. “They transfer all the money from that account to several different ones, accounts linked to the chosen charities.”

“How much you want to bet none of these exist?” Ten laughs, sliding his finger own the phone. “If we tell our team to investigate them–”

“They would probably find them to be shell organizations, each one linked somehow to the previous one, each one in different countries. That’s why we can’t track some of the money,” the older’s eyes widen, a bitter laugh escaping his lips.

Ten nods. “It’s all a facade. A long, complex and secretive chain meant to distance the resort from all the ill-gotten loot.”

Bingo.

“Holy shit, Ten” Yuta beams, reaching up to hold Ten’s cheeks between his hands and planting a kiss on his forehead. “You did it.”

“ _We_ did it,” the younger smiles, excitement and something else making his heart beat twice as fast. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Without Yuta, they wouldn’t have worked together from the start. Without Yuta, they wouldn’t have played as a couple before others. Without Yuta, they wouldn’t have met Jeonghan and Seungcheol, who provided them with the information they needed when they needed it most. 

Without Yuta, Ten would have given up and gone home without trying one last time.

“Yuta?” he says, almost too quietly.

“Yeah?”

The questions leave his mouth before he can stop them. “Were you saying the truth? Back there?” he laughs nervously after saying that, almost like he regrets it. The tension between them has reached heart racing levels, their pulses visible through skin.

The older feels his face heat up. 

He slowly turns his head down, embarrassment showing bright red on his ears. He doesn’t dare look at Ten after remembering what spilled from his lips back at the restaurant, but he also won’t deny any single word he said.

He nods, and Ten takes a deep breath, releases it slowly.

“I can’t believe you would say that,” the younger eventually, voice soft and considering. “I’ve been complaining a lot about you to myself, you know. About how you never listen and how you are so frustrating and so stubborn. How you drive me crazy sometimes, I mean, I’d leave most of our conversations feeling irritated and confused, like I wanted to claw my face off–”

“This is literally the opposite of what I just spilled at brunch,” Yuta interrupts, but immediately shuts his mouth when Ten pins him with an icy glare.

“Can you just be quiet for, like, five minutes? For once in your life?” Ten snaps, but it lacks any real heat.

All the same, Yuta nods and mimes zipping his lips.

Ten shakes his head suddenly, frowning. “Fuck, I’m sorry, I’m not good at this.”

“You’re doing fine,” Yuta tells him honestly. Ten looks more honest and vulnerable than Yuta has ever seen him, and after only a moment’s hesitation, he reaches over and gently rests a reassuring hand on Ten’s knee.

“Where I’m going with this is– that despite fighting it, you somehow still managed to sneak your way into my thoughts and just… Stay there. I didn’t want you there. Hell, I don’t know how you even got there. But here you are, and I just want to give up on fighting it, because I’m so sick of pretending it isn’t true. So, uh,” Ten reaches up and rubs at the back of his neck, head finally peeking up to meet his gaze. “Yeah.”

Every muscle in his entire body looks tense as he stares at Yuta, but his expression is more earnest and open than the older can ever remember it being, and it literally sucks the breath from his lungs as he grasps what Ten just confessed to him.

This is not an act.

“... Jesus, what the fuck,” Yuta laughs nervously when he finally finds the words to speak. 

His heart is literally swelling up with affection right now, the feeling so intense that it’s almost suffocating. Leave it to Ten to be the biggest fucking closet romantic in the history of the world, without even realizing it. He thinks his chest might literally burst with all the emotion he’s suddenly feeling.

“Yuta,” Ten starts slowly, but he doesn’t follow up with anything else. He feels his mouth go dry, like the air is being slowly sucked from the room and he can no longer breathe. 

Yuta’s eyes are dark, his gaze so intense that Ten’s stomach drops, heart thundering in his chest. Unconsciously, his tongue darts out to lick his lips, and Yuta’s gaze follows the entire movement, mesmerized. He’s not sure who moves first, but one moment they’re looking at each other, and the next, they’re kissing.

Warm.

That’s how Ten’s lips feel over his own.

And okay– maybe this time Yuta was actually expecting this. 

As soon as they locked themselves back into their room he’d been waiting for this silently, almost like a prayer. Because, well, he may or may not have fallen for Ten without even having any conscious awareness of it. Which, okay, maybe that’s not quite true. Yuta had once had a thing for Ten when he first joined the agency, but back then it mostly consisted of thinking he was crazy attractive and looked like he could beat the shit out of Yuta in a fight. Because that’s hot, right?

God, he doesn’t even know why he’s thinking of that right now, when Ten is, willingly and soberly, kissing him.

He kisses Yuta slowly, but with no doubt nor second thoughts. Yuta’s hand rests below Ten’s ear, his thumb caressing his cheek as their breaths mingle. Ten’s fingers grasp at the other’s sleeves and pulls him closer, until there’s no space left between them and he can feel the beating of his heart against his chest.

They pull apart and take shaky, shallow breaths.

“We should probably get back to work, huh?” Yuta says breathlessly, his lips still too close, brushing over Ten’s as he speaks.

The younger agrees. “Yeah,” he mumbles, leaning back in to press a quick kiss to Yuta’s lips. “We have a case to solve.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’re in for a long night.

To avoid getting a ridiculously expensive extra night charged on the agency’s account, they check out of the resort that evening.

Yuta is familiar with how much Kun hates  _ unforeseen events _ , so he concludes that it’s best they prevent any kind of decision that could get them fired on the spot. After getting out their suitcases and locking them inside the trunks of their cars, they simply report back to the agency that they’re onto something major for the case, and that they should remain alert in case they need backup or any other sort of help.

Ten tells Taeyong over the phone about what they found regarding the raffle and the charities, and the older offers a solution that seems like fallen from heaven. Yuta texts Johnny about the plan they came up with so he can pick holes in it or give them the go-ahead, which he does in a matter of minutes.

By 8PM, everything’s ready, and they share a short kiss before parting ways.

Ten has settled himself with his laptop at the resort bar, the one where he first met up with Yuta merely a week ago. The counter and the stools there bring him back memories that make him smile like a school boy, but he quickly shakes his head to try and get rid of that thought and focus on the thing he’s here for– the mission. He’s got a baseball cap on and a pair of sunglasses, trying not to get seen by anyone that could see him and think  _ Hey, shouldn’t this guy be out of here already? _

He’s seated at a booth further from the entrance, with a cold glass of water already sweating down over the table. The screen in front of him is divided in several small squares, each of them showing a different angle inside the venue where the charity raffle is about to be held. Taeyong easily hacked the resort’s security camera system and casted it to Ten’s laptop, so he could monitor Yuta and the event from afar while he waited for orders to continue or retreat.

On the other hand, Yuta gets easy access to the event.

When he arrives, there’s a line near the front doors of the venue to gain access to the event, and he calmly shows the $10 donation he and Ten made earlier to a random charity listed on the website. After seeing the transaction, an employee welcomes him and shows him to a seat in the quickly filling venue.

The room in which it’s held is massive, almost having the appearance of a cathedral in its decor and architecture, though it’s filled with tables covered in white cloth and dishes and chairs for six. On top of each table there are crystalline vases filled with bouquets of various kinds. Most common are roses and carnations, though there are plenty of lilies and daisies and other kinds of flowers Yuta can’t quite name. The ceiling rises in a high dome shape, making every sound in the room echo in its vastness. Three sets of large, crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a faint golden hue on the room.

And, at the middle of the room, on a small stage decorated with red and gold drapes, an orchestra is lightly playing something that sounds absolutely lovely.

It all feels very exclusive.

“Run me through the plan again,” Yuta whispers down to his lapel. Clipped on the inside, there’s a small microphone that connects to the headset his partner is wearing.

Ten’s response is immediate, honey-like voice sounding crystal clear on Yuta’s own in-ear. “In order to shut this place down and/or capture The Boss, we need to prove that they’re using the raffle to launder money, right? So we used one of your credit cards to make a donation that Taeyong will trace through every account it goes, but it might take a while. We have to stay here in the meantime to make sure we were right,” he repeats the same speech he’s been giving himself inside his head. “Which we are, by the way.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Yuta sighs, pulling at the neck of his dress shirt. “But I still don’t get why I’m in here wearing this  _ stupid  _ suit while you’re calmly hiding at the bar and drinking whiskey.”

Ten has to bite back a laugh. “I’m not drinking anything but water, for your information. But if we’re right about the money laundering, there’s a high chance The Boss is here tonight between the invited guests. I’ll be monitoring the event through the cameras to see any abnormalities, but you’re our inside man. Besides,” there’s not too many people in the bar, and none of them are close enough to be able to hear him, but Ten still brings his own mic close to his mouth and whispers into it. “I think you look hot in that suit.”

The words send a chill running down Yuta’s back. He looks around him before answering. “You know I can’t react to that without looking like a crazy person and yet you tease me? You hate me. You despise me.”

To that, Ten actually laughs. The sound like music inside Yuta’s ear, and oh how he wishes he could be undercover next to Ten right now and kiss into that laugh.

“Yeah, I loathe you. Now stop talking or you  _ will  _ look like a crazy person. People are walking over to your table.”

Just as Ten says, the employee from before comes back to Yuta’s table, accompanied by an older couple. He gestures to two of the chairs in front of the agent and gives them one last welcome before walking away, and Yuta has to bite back his tongue not to continue talking into the device on his lapel.

From the bar, Ten can see on his computer how the woman begins a conversation with Yuta, and he turns off his mic to not distract him with his typing.

They’re in for a long night.

* * *

Thirty minutes into the event, Ten receives a call from Johnny.

“What do you have on the charities?” he asks upon answering.

“Wow, not even a ‘Hi, Johnny’? I’m hurt,” Johnny scoffs sarcastically. He’s worked with Ten way too many times for him to actually expect casual chat. “I just finished looking them all up.”

“And?”

“Surprisingly enough, I did find some information about each of them, but there was only so much online. Just superficial websites with basic information to convince not-so-dumb rich people that they exist.”

Ten holds in his breath. Just as he thought.

Johnny continues. “But when talking to people on the fundraising world, very few had ever heard of them. And those who did knew as much as I did. So, you know what that means?”

“Shell organizations,” Ten smiles to himself.

“Bingo,” his teammates says. “They exist only on paper and have no active business operations whatsoever. All set up in anonymity.”

“We could shut this entire place down by just that,” Ten feels excitement blossom in his chest.

Johnny laughs. “Easy there. As soon as Taeyong finishes tracing your donation, we definitely will. We’re a step closer from catching The Boss,” his voice sounds happy, almost proud. His smile is practically audible. “You did it, Tennie.”

On one of the security cameras displayed on his screen, Ten can see Yuta sitting at his table, easily striking a conversation with the older woman to his left. He can’t hear what he’s saying, but the smile on his face as he charms his way into getting information from the woman makes Ten smile, too.

“We did,” he ends up saying without thinking. “A lot of this was thanks to Yuta."

The gasp on the other side of the call is too dramatic to be real. “What is that I’m hearing? You’re giving Nakamoto Yuta, of all people, credit for helping you solve the case? Oh man, dick seriously changed you.”

“Johnny, I will fucking kill you,” Ten says, annoyed, and rolls his eyes even though he knows his friend can’t see him. 

“You didn’t deny it.”

“Goodbye, Johnny.”

“Wait, wait, wait, for real?” Johnny laughs a little too loudly. “Oh my God. Are you seriously boning? You’re moving fast! My baby—”

_ Click. _ Phone call over. Again.

Ten melts into his seat as he tries to recover his composure. Johnny’s too nosy for his own good— one more second and Ten would’ve run out of there to hunt him down. Now it’s not the time to discuss whether or not he’s...  _ boning _ anyone.

They’re on a mission, for fuck’s sake.

He focuses on the image of Yuta on his screen— smiling and talking, allowing himself to have one sip of the expensive champagne he’s been served. He looks scaringly natural in between all of the rich people around him, only proving that his acting skills are out if this world.

Yuta himself knows that.

He’s been trying to get more information about past events of the like, about the charity raffles that have been held at the resort on previous occasions. The woman next to him has provided decent information so far— about how the event is held once every few months, and about how impressive it is. Apparently, they’re always able to raise at least 150 million won in between all of the donations to all of the charities, and she rejoices on how much good they do.

Yuta asks her if she actually knows anything about these organizations, where her money goes to, but she waves the question away by saying she trusts the founders and the resort.

They’re the experts, she says.

Before he can respond, the music fades and someone clears their throat.

The crowd quiets down as a classily dressed older man with slicked back hair speaks into the microphone on the stage.

“Welcome everyone, to the 5th charity raffle at the Grand Neo Resort,” the man introduces the event. “As always, we’ll start by welcoming our most special guests, a few of the founders of the charities you’ve all so kindly donated to,” he asks for a round of applause that’s quickly followed by everyone in the room. The six people seated at the table near the stage stand up and raise their hands as a greeting when the host says their names, followed by the charity they founded.

One of the names raises doubt within Yuta, something he can’t quite put his finger on. Behind said man, with their backs turned to Yuta, there are two other men, most likely bodyguards.

What could he need them for?

Before he can try to recall any kind of memory, the host continues. “Due to this being a special occasion, we will first hear a speech by the CEO of our beloved resort, and then the charity founders will come up on stage to say a few words. After that, dinner will be served– three courses. And finally, the raffle will be done live on this stage and the winner will claim their prize!”

More cheering from the guests as they welcome a short, bald man on stage, the resort’s CEO. Yuta knows they’ve looked onto him and done more than three background checks and he’s come out clean, but he still can’t help thinking there’s something odd about him.

Maybe it’s the lack of hair.

Looking back at the table where the charity founders seat, he takes a few minutes to scan through all of them. There’s four men and two women, all dressed nicely, all looking like they could build a company from scratch if they were bored one day.

As if getting called, the man who first caught Yuta’s attention turns his head to the left, his side profile visible and sharp. The image springs back a memory into the agent’s mind, one that finally pinpoints the exact time and place where he’s seen this man before.

Yuta stands up from his seat, excusing himself to run into the men’s restroom so he can talk into his microphone without looking weird.

“Isn’t that the man from room 910?” he asks towards his lapel once he’s checked he’s alone inside the room.

Ten sounds confused when he replies. “What?”

“One of the charity founders,” Yuta explains. “Remember when we were going to break into Mr. Kim’s room? Someone came up the elevator so you took it as an excuse to kiss me–”

“Excuse me?” his partner scoffs on the other side.

“Yeah, don’t interrupt me! So, after you threw yourself at me, I saw that man through the corner of my eye. I don’t know who the other two were, but I’m positive that’s him.”

Ten is growing impatient. “Where do you want to go with this?”

“I’m just saying– I don’t remember reading his name on the software. And I’m  _ very _ good with names. Also, if he’s that important, his name would have been highlighted like the rest of the other special guests so it would be easier to remember,” Yuta feels his mind running a thousand miles per hour. He doesn’t know why– a hunch, a gut feeling– but he feels like this man may be worth keeping an eye on. “Can you maybe check it out?"

“Do you think he’s hiding something?” the other asks.

Yuta’s thought process spills form his lips. “Could be. Or he could just be a man trying to remain lowkey. Some charity founders are like that, you now? They just limit themselves to raise the money and do some good. Those are the ones who truly do it in order to help and not for the recognition or whatever. But if he wanted to remain lowkey, what is he doing here at the resort, talking at this event? Unless he’s in for the spa days and the open bar. In that case, I would  _ not _ judge him for because that shit is–”

“ _ Holy fucking shit. _ ”

“Sorry, sorry, I know I shouldn’t talk a lot because it’ll look like I’m talking alone, but I’m alone, I swear–”

“Yuta.”

“There’s no one here!”

“ _ Yuta _ .”

“What?”

“I can’t believe we didn’t see this before,” Ten’s voice is pure panic when he speaks, the sound of keys being quickly pushed down on his keyboard so loud even Yuta can hear it. He must be doing research. “The software... It says room 910 is empty."

The older leans against the sink. “... You’re kidding.”

“No. The data for that room is completely empty, has been for at least a month,” his partner says. “You said you hadn’t heard the man’s name?”

“Not even once.”

“I just tried to searching him up. If he’s founded a charity there should be some information about him, right? But…”

“But…?” Yuta asks, clumsily running out of the bathroom. He pushes the door open and stands there, frozen.

The man in question is being asked to walk onto the stage, supposedly to start a speech about raising awareness and thanking the donors at the resort.

It’s then that Ten’s voice talks into Yuta’s ear, crystal clear. “That man doesn’t exist.”

At the side of the stage, the older finally sees them– the two other men that were almost like bodyguards, the ones he couldn’t distinguish well before. The memory of the men coming out of the elevator comes back to him, and almost like a movie he can backtrack, fast forward and pause. These are the same men he saw walking towards room 910 with the alleged charity founder. One of them is tall, with a buzzcut, and not too muscular, but with a face that looks like it could kill Yuta with a stare.

The other one is the bartender. The one who was following them on day 2.

“Ten... It’s him,” Yuta says, eyes focused on the man on stage. “That’s The Boss.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ten minutes.

It’s clear what they have to do next.

“We have to get him.” 

“Are you crazy?” Ten says a little too loudly, making the two or three people at the bar look back at him. He smiles at them shyly before sliding down on the booth and whispering into his mic. “We have no actual proof it’s really him. How exactly do you want to get him?”

Yuta’s response is definite, not a single trace of doubt on his voice. “I’m going into his room.”

“Oh my God, you’ve really lost your mind.”

“No, okay, hear me out,” the older protests, a little too loudly. A couple walks past him and stares at him for a second or two, wondering who is this man talking to when there’s no one accompanying him. Yuta pulls out his phone and holds it up, over his in-ear, to appear like he’s talking on the phone and not alone outside of a bathroom. “I know it’s him.”

For some reason, Ten believes him. But it still sounds crazy. “How…?"

“The software says his room is empty, right?” Yuta asks, without really waiting for an answer. “Why would a man who’s nothing but a humble charity founder hide himself like that? And he’s got bodyguards, for fuck’s sake. One of which was onto us the first two days we were here. He’s hiding something.”

“I’m not saying he isn’t,” Ten’s voice sighs into his ear. “I just think we should wait until we hear from Taeyong. The plan is to–”

“We don’t know how long it’ll take him, Ten,” Yuta runs a hand through his hair, messing it up in desperation. “What if we’re right and this is him? Are we just going to let him go and wait another year before we actually get him? That’s the plan?” he turns around the venue, scared they might be losing time.

Everyone’s focused and delighted by the man on stage, the man Yuta is strongly suspicious of. It’s the perfect opportunity to leave this event and see if what he’s thinking is correct, and he can’t help but feel like if he doesn’t do something now, he’s going to regret it.

Yuta looks at a specific point of the room, to a camera set up high next to a column he’s near.

He stares into the lens, hoping Ten is looking. 

“Ten minutes,” he says, almost begs. “That’s all I ask.”

“Yuta...”

“You keep your eye on him through the cameras, wait for Taeyong’s results and Kun’s orders–I’ll go into the man’s room. Nobody has to know, because I’ll be in and out, ten minutes tops,” the older’s voice is soft. Hopeful. “And if you tell me to get out and come back, I will.”

Silence follows his speech, like a plead that won’t be answered.

There are many reasons why this is a bad idea– it’s not part of the plan, it’s based on a hunch. Yuta could get caught not only by the man whose room he’s meaning to barge in, but also by any hotel staff who may know he’s not supposed to be here, not anymore. They haven’t prepared a list of things he could do or say to avoid arising suspicions. He could make a wrong move, take too long, underestimate the risk. Get hurt.

He could be wrong.

But he could also be right.

“I swear to God, Yuta,” Ten sighs after a few seconds, and he’s instantly aware that he’s probably going to regret this. “If you don’t get out of there in time, I’m not going to save you.”

* * *

The crowds part easily for Yuta.

He makes his way through the main ballroom, looks thrown at him from every direction but none stopping him from swiftly heading towards the door. The guards he passes by talk quietly into their headsets in deep tones, but they don't even spare him a second glance.

Being an agent has always come naturally to Yuta.

As a child, he used to eavesdrop on all kinds of conversations, at bedtime pinning his best ear to the dusty boards in order to hear what the grown-ups had to say. As a teen, he knew everything about everyone, always being the goldmine of information.

His ability to gather sensitive intel and his training to kick ass should it be necessary have always made his job easier, but that doesn’t mean it’s stopped being exciting.

There's something about sneaking into a bad guy’s territory that always gets the adrenaline pumping like nothing else. It’s being sly as a cat, fast as a cheetah, and the thrill of it just burns in Yuta’s veins. It’d been a while since he’d done some good old-fashioned infiltration like this, and he’d been craving for it more than anything. That’s why climbing up nine floors and using his charms to lure away any staff member that tries to question him is easy.

Breaking into room 910 with the master key he’d _borrowed_ from Ten is even easier. 

Using a deeper voice than his own, Yuta speaks into the microphone. “I’m in.”

“What was that?”

“My hacker voice.”

“I’m giving you one less minute because of that.”

“Fair enough.”

The room he finds himself in is pretty much the same as the one he and Ten stayed at the last few days, if only slightly bigger. There’s a king-sized bed at the center of the room, white and silver bed sheets covering it neatly. A long, navy blue chesterfield sofa is positioned at one side of the room, while on the other, on the further corner, there’s a dark wooden table with four chairs on each end.

It looks like your typical hotel room, and not the secret cave of a widely chased criminal.

For now.

Yuta immediately starts roaming around the room– moving around pillows, searching underneath the mattress and even looking inside all drawers he can get his hands on. He notices that, strangely enough, there are no suitcases or handbags in sight, which raises a red flag on its own. Who comes to a resort, whether for vacation or business, and doesn’t bring at least a fanny pack?

“You got anything yet?” Ten suddenly asks him, and even though he can’t see him, Yuta can almost picture him moving his leg up and down, the way he does when he’s nervous.

He tries to calm him down. “Baby, you’ve seen what I can do in sixty seconds,” he makes him remember, making his way towards the closet. “Give me time.”

Ten huffs. “Don’t call me baby,” he mumbles, almost inaudible.

It makes the other smile. “Why? Does it make you flustered?”

“God, I can’t believe I like you.”

Yuta freezes, hands still over the closet handles.

He feels his face heat up as he opens the doors, slowly and silently continuing with his investigation. He’s obviously still aware of what he’s here to do, but it’s impossible for him to stop his stomach from getting swarmed by butterflies.

Ten seems to notice, even though he’s no longer watching him through a camera on his screen. “Why did you suddenly go quiet?”

Yuta takes a second to answer, staring at the empty space in front of him, trying to think straight. “It’s the first time you actually _say_ you like me,” he mumbles, a lot more shy than he’d intended to. He sticks his head into the closet as if doing so he’ll find something else. “I like you, too.”

And now it’s time for Ten to be silent.

Nine floors below Yuta, still sitting at his corner inside the resort’s bar, Ten melts down into his seat, embarrassed. He hadn’t even thought twice before saying that, and now Yuta was saying it back it and it felt like a heavy weight being dropped on him.

He liked Yuta, and Yuta liked him back. And all it took for them to realize was a week together and a bunch of making out.

Ten clears his throat. He side eyes the cameras on the venue– the charity founder is done giving his speech, and he’s sitting back on the table next to the rest. “Not quite the scenario for a love confession, isn’t it?”

Yuta’s laugh resonates into his ear. “I don’t know. I think it’s romantic,” he jokes, and Ten already knows he’s going to tease him about it once they’re done with all of this. In fact, he might have started teasing right away, if not for something that makes him go, “ _Oh_.” 

Saved by the mission.

“Did you find anything?”

“You bet I did, _baby_ ,” the older celebrates. Ten can’t see him right now– there are no cameras inside the rooms for privacy reasons– but he pictures Yuta smiling brightly. “Dubiously secured laptop in between folded towels on the bathroom shelf. Classic.”

“Classic,” Ten scoffs. “Took you almost half the time to find it.”

It sounds like his partner is about to protest, an offended scoff audible on Ten’s in-ear, but a pop up window on his computer catches all of his attention. Ten mutes Yuta’s mic in the middle of a sentence about how Taeyong taught him the basics of hacking and how he’ll find what he came looking for in a blink. 

It’s Taeyong himself the one calling, so Ten picks up without thinking twice.

“Yong,” he says as soon as he answers the call. “Tell me some good news.”

“Oh, you’re in for _great_ news,” Taeyong’s voice is so comfortingly happy it immediately makes Ten feel hopeful. “I finished tracing your donation– and it wasn’t easy, let me tell you. The transaction process was… Unnecessarily complex, which on its own is proof of suspicious activity.”

Ten takes a deep breath. His heart rate speeds up. “Yeah?”

“Heck yeah. It’s called the _layering phase_ of money laundering. Their funds are shoveled around multiple times to make them harder to track,” Taeyong explains. “So like, you ‘donated’ to a charity in Switzerland, right? Well, turns out your money was transferred from South Korea to an account in the U.S. so they currency would be changed to dollars. Then they transferred it again to an account in Europe, I’m getting Russia, which then lead the money to the charity’s “main” account in Switzerland that then–”

“ _Taeyong_ ,” Ten interrupts, at the verge of losing his mind. “Please get to the point.”

“Right, sorry,” the older laughs nervously on the other end of the line, and he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves. The next few words he says, are like heaven to Ten’s ears. “You were right.”

After a week of gathering intel, attending events, talking to people. After a week of sneaking into places they shouldn’t have been in, drinking things they shouldn’t have drank and kissing in places they shouldn’t have kissed. After making advances then failing.

After almost giving up, they were right.

Ten is so star struck he almost doesn’t hear when Taeyong continues. “Johnny had calculated the event to make around 150 million won in donations to their charities. But just from your donation alone, I got access to all of the accounts they’ve been using for the rest of the charities. Tonight, the resort had 900 million won transferred to several unidentified bank accounts. You were right– they were laundering the money through them.”

He then starts explaining what will come next.

Now that they have proof of the crime, the agency can actually take matters into their own hands. Apparently, Kun has ordered a few of their people to head immediately to the resort, in order to shut it down and arrest those who may have been aware of the laundering or participated into doing it. Backup will arrive in five minutes tops, and both Yuta and Ten will be free from their covers and able to join back into their teams.

The information is fuzzy in Ten’s brain. All he can think of is, _We did it._

He thanks Taeyong for his hard work, says he’ll make sure to tell Yuta everything, and the call is done and finished with a relieved sigh.

They did it.

“Yuta,” Ten turns the microphone back on, ready to share the good news. “Guess w–”

“Ten,” he gets cut off.

Yuta’s voice is uncharacteristically serious. It sends chills down Ten’s spine. “…What?”

“Call Kun,” his partner says, sucking in a deep breath. “Immediately.”

* * *

Yuta still can’t believe what he just found.

After getting his microphone turned off by Ten, he had nothing left but to concentrate on the device between his hands– a thin, lightweight black computer he’d found inside the bathroom, underneath a few towels that remained unused.

The fact that it had been hidden like that was enough reason to suspect the men who apparently stay here. But the contents…

It had been easy to unlock the device. After a few keys pressed down, and one of Doyoung’s tech devices cracking the password, Yuta had gotten access to every single file and folder inside the computer, all of them with coded names that practically meant nothing to him.

Until he started lurking– and now he could almost faint from excitement.

“What’s going on?” Ten demands to know, refusing to call Kun until Yuta explains to him what he’s found.

“It’s all here,” the other replies, sliding his finger down the cursor, eyes scanning the thousand different numbers on the screen. He’s not good at adding them up or giving them meaning like Ten and Johnny are, but he knows they can’t be good. “Everything about the resort, about the charities, the schemes, the money, the source of it all,” Yuta almost laughs at the idiocy of keeping such information in here. “It’s all here.”

Ten stammers when he speaks. “Are you… Are you saying that…?”

His eyes move to the cameras of the venue on his own screen, at the man sitting at the table near the stage, chatting naturally with the woman to his side. He stares at him, stares at his bodyguards, at the way they’ve been there all along. Practically in front of their faces.

“The Boss,” Yuta’s voice resounds inside his head, definite. “It’s really him.”

All of the stress that had been building on top of Ten, suddenly vanishes. He had started to feel like an overheated machine– a computer running too many files, ready to shut down. Everything had been slowing down around him, stopping him from being able to perform as he knew he could.

But now his mind was clear, empty from all stress, and Ten feels himself back up to full processing speed.

“I need to call Kun,” he says then, fingers already typing down numbers on his phone.

Until Yuta speaks up. “Wait. There’s more.”

Ten stops before pressing down the call button. “What else can there be?”

“Remember the first day here, when you were at the bar and heard the bartender-bodyguard-guy talking to a customer? What did they say?” 

The younger is growing impatient, but he remembers, so he answers. “Heavy. Port. Boss,” he recites. “Why is that important?” 

“Because I just hacked into his phone through the computer. The fucking idiot has them linked,” it sounds like Yuta _laughs_ and, for some reason, Ten finds it incredibly hot. “And he just got a text that reads: _Five minutes until discharge._ ”

“Are you saying…?”

“There’s a ship about to dock at the port near here in a few minutes,” Yuta says exactly what the other was thinking. “It’s a big package.”

Ten bites his lip. “How big?”

Yuta actually laughs at this. “Li Yongqin, I didn’t know you were into dirty talk.”

“I’m full of wonders,” his partner replies, equally annoyed and expectant. “Tell me how big.”

“About 5 tons of illegal drugs.”

“Oh, wow. That’s big.”

“Tell me about it,” Yuta scrolls some more around the computer, to make sure what he’s reading is real. It almost feels like a dream. “You need to call Kun and tell him this. He needs to send backup to the port, not the resort. Our top priority is getting The Boss.”

Yuta’s right, so Ten does. 

He speed-dials Kun in under a second, explaining the situation and what they’ve found. Kun almost seems like he wants to curse at them for acting on their own and outside of the plan, but due to the successful outcome he decides he can yell at them later.

For now, he orders all of the backup heading to the resort to drive past and reach the port instead. The new goal is to intercept the shipment and, with luck, The Boss as well.

Everything happens so fast and so free-flowing, Ten almost doesn’t believe this case has been ongoing for over a year. He remembers the first few times he heard about it– about the new ring leader that had surfaced, smarter than any other before him, unidentifiable by appearance. The case had been immediately given to Yuta but, despite his and his team’s best efforts, his apprehension had been near impossible. 

At the time, Ten had thought it couldn’t be that hard, for even the most diligent of people make mistakes. Sooner or later The Boss would slip and they would get him, he thought.

And now, he had a face.

But even the most diligent of people make mistakes, and Ten’s heart drops to his feet when he hangs up to Kun and his eyes fall back over his screen, at the venue camera he’d been keeping his eye on.

The Boss is no longer there, and neither are his bodyguards.

He’s lost track of them, and Yuta’s still up in that room.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yuta.

To run off like that, unarmed, to a place where he’ll definitely be outnumbered and probably killed– what is Ten thinking?

Well, he isn’t. 

The adrenaline floods his system like it's on an intravenous drip– right into his blood at full pelt. He feels his heart about to explode, eyes wide as he runs nine sets of stairs, barely breathing as he climbs up two steps at a time. His legs ache from the running and his lungs feel like collapsing, but his mind can only focus on one thing that keeps him going.

Yuta.

As he runs up the stairs, Ten tries calling his name through the microphone, but no one answers back. Yuta may have turned it off, or took the in-ear out now that the case was solved. He may have gotten rid of that and left the room before Ten had even finished talking to Kun, and he was probably inside the elevator on his way back to his car. Or maybe The Boss wasn’t even heading to his room, but rather straight to the port where he would be ambushed by Ten’s and Yuta’s colleagues and sent to prision, and everything would be okay.

Yeah, that was probably it.

Either way, Ten keeps running, heart threatening to burst out of his chest. He tries calling Johnny, tries calling Taeyong, tries calling Kun, but it’s all useless. No one’s picking up. 

No one’s coming.

His legs ache and his lungs feel like collapsing, and a thousand different scenarios come to his head, but none of them are enough to ease down his heavy breathing or his hurried steps. No one’s coming, all of their men sent to the port under Kun’s orders.

It’s only him and Yuta now, and if Ten doesn’t go, who will?

His legs ache and his lungs feel like collapsing, but Ten runs all sets of stairs until he reaches the ninth floor, and he stands outside room 910. Ten looks around him desperately, tries to catch a glimpse of Yuta on the hall, running away, being okay.

Instead, there’s a noise from inside the room, and Ten has been an agent long enough to know a gunshot when he hears one.

He turns the knob on his hand, but it’s locked.

Inside there are no voices that can be heard, but rather heavy thuds and angry grunts that tell him there’s definitely more than one person inside, and at least one of them is armed. The door’s locked, and his partner is definitely inside, and The Boss and his bodyguards got him, and if Ten doesn’t do something now Yuta’s most likely going to die.

He could never bear that.

Using all of his strength, Ten shoves his shoulder into the door once, twice, before it cracks open underneath his weight. He screams Yuta’s name, adrenaline making him almost blind as he searches for him into the chaos he’s walked into.

In the middle of a fight there isn't really time to stop and come up with a plan. 

When Ten walks in, the man with the gun aims directly at him for barging in. The Boss runs off to get a laptop and another random device from over the table on the far corner, the one Yuta had hacked into and found all of their evidence. 

And Yuta– alive, unharmed– is fighting hand in hand with the bartender they know too well.

He calls for Ten, tells him to get out, it’s dangerous. He receives a punch to his ribs that makes him stumble back and almost fall, but Yuta still tries to make Ten leave. 

“Go ask for help!” he croaks out, and the man’s balled fist collides with his cheekbone, flaying Yuta’s neck backward like a willow caught in the wind.

Ten concentrates on not getting shot as he quickly but carefully swings his leg down to make the other man fall and drop the gun, but under a second the other looks physically ready to attack. Through the corner of his eye, Ten can see The Boss still standing at the far away corner of the room, scanning the fight as if coming up with the best way to get out of there without getting stopped by either of the agents fighting his men.

There are just two of them, though, The Boss seems to realize, a smile pulling at his lips.

He realizes they’re alone, and that no one else is coming to help them.

Ten doesn’t know who throws the first punch, but suddenly a fist was slamming into his mouth while his own sunk into the bodyguard’s stomach. Ten tastes blood, stumbling apart for a brief second to catch his breath before diving back at the other, eyes narrowed in determination.

He dodges a punch and comes up with one of his own– for a brief instant, the bodyguard’s bloodshot eyes widen before he manages to tilt his head back and slam it into Ten’s. Stars burst in the agent’s vision but he shakes it off, blindly reaching out both of his hands to grasp at the bodyguard’s head and bring his knee up to his nose. 

There’s a blunt crack, and when Ten lifts the man’s face back up, crimson leaks from both his nostrils and his nose has twisted to an impossible angle. He lets go of him, his limp body falling to the ground at his feet.

Ten can hear Yuta grunt and grumble somewhere in front of him, and he allows himself to turn and check if he needs help.

It happens fast.

Before he can even spot Yuta, the first thing Ten sees is that The Boss is no longer by the corner. He’s somehow made his way to the other side of the room, walking around with a ranging stride, even and quick paced, like he doesn’t have a care in the world. Ten almost feels like he’s mocking him as he walks past him to stand in front of the still fighting men, holding the computer with a single hand, like he’s a regular man on his way to work.

And when he raises his other arm and points the formerly dropped gun at Yuta, Ten doesn’t know what he’s thinking.

He just yells his partner’s name, really not knowing what he’s thinking, and he runs, as fast as he can, runs and throws his arms around Yuta’s body in some twisted hug that helps him sling the other to the side. 

Too late, too late. 

God, he’s too late. 

The sound pierces his ears and he knows he didn’t make it in time. He saw the bastard raise his gun and Ten had ran, but he doesn’t know what was he thinking and he wasn’t fast enough. His ears are ringing, but he hears The Boss ordering the bartender to get out. 

Then he turns to Yuta, laying frozen underneath Ten, and he smiles.

“Would you excuse us?” the man says, a voice so sinister Ten begins to tremble. “We have somewhere to be at right now. Good luck!”

And just like that, he’s out the door.

Ten can’t even bring himself to run after him.

He was too late and he knows it, he just knows it. Yuta feels warm underneath him, and he doesn’t even dare to look. The knowledge that he wasn’t fast enough, that he couldn’t save his partner, blows through him with a pain so intensely physical that Ten’s entire weight falls over Yuta, and then he feels shitty– he just got shot, and Ten can’t even recover enough to scream and ask for help.

It hurts, fuck, it hurts. 

He was too late and now Yuta’s been shot. A burning in his chest chased by an icy cold feeling spreads through Ten. Something bubbles up from inside, a sob that comes out as a gurgling cough, warmth slipping down from his lips and blooming over his chest. It kind of feels nice, chases away the blizzard suddenly blowing in his veins.

When Ten suddenly finds himself slumped over, laying on the ground, Yuta reacts.

“Holy shit,” he sobs out. “Holy fuck, Ten, you fucking idiot. Y-You’re going to be okay. Please look at me. Please don’t close your eyes.”

Ten’s brows furrow just a little.

Why is Yuta telling him he’s going to be okay? Why is he panicking and holding onto him, and how does he have so much strength to crawl from underneath Ten and hold him between his arms?

That shouldn’t be possible. Yuta’s severely hurt.

There’s a sound, something mumbled around him, and it takes him a second to realize Yuta is speaking to him again. He sounds like he was talking from the bottom of a well. “What the fuck, Ten?” he cries, holding him in between his arms, using a shaky hand to pull out his phone and dial someone, anyone.

“Wh...?” Ten tries to say, but his words come out gurgled, choked by… blood?

Blood, that trickles out from the corners of his mouth as he feels himself moved, lifted and cradled. He feels like he’s floating, maybe falling. Yuta’s voice is filled with panic as he yells something into his phone, but he holds onto Ten like he’s scared he’ll walk away if he lets go.

Ten’s eyes roll into the back of his head for a moment before he focuses again, looking up this time. He’s floating and falling and being cradled. 

Yuta. 

Yuta is holding him so very tightly, with such a strength that shouldn’t be possible if he just got shot. 

Did he, though?

Ten can feel Yuta moving, and he moves along with him, carried by the arms that hold him so tightly. It’s almost like Yuta’s trying to get up but it’s useless– his body shakes and falls back down, too tired and beaten up to walk, but he tries his best for Ten. 

He falls to his knees and curses, sobbing into the crook of Ten’s neck as he holds him closer, warm tears trickling down both their skins.

Ten swallows down a thick bundle of blood when realization hits him.

You know in the movies where a gun goes off and there’s a sudden look of shock on the victim’s face before they look down at their wound? It’s very accurate to what happens next. 

Ten doesn’t feel pain, not really. He just feels overwhelmingly warm and he’s shaking, and he can taste blood pooling inside his mouth but he’s not hurting. He heard the gunshot and immediately felt a tight pressure in his chest, but he’d figured it was due to the guilt he felt for one too many things.

Allowing Yuta to go into that room. Not going with him. Getting distracted. Not looking after him. Losing The Boss out of sight. Putting Yuta at such a risk he ended up getting shot.

Or maybe not that last one.

Ten looks down and sees Yuta’s hand pressing down at a wound near the middle of Ten’s chest, and he’s surprised to see how much blood he seems to be losing.

Huh.

“You fucking… Fucking idiot,” Yuta cries out, holding onto Ten like he’s the one thing keeping him here. Which he probably is. “Why…? Why the fuck…? Something so… So...” his voice cracks and dies in his throat. Oh, the irony. “Why the fuck would you do something so _reckless_?”

Ten almost laughs as he hears this, if not for the burning ache that’s starting to make way through his chest.

“Reckless has... kept you... alive, right?” he manages to whisper, and he feels Yuta’s chest move against him. 

Maybe a laugh. Or a sob, he doesn’t know. 

He hopes it’s a laugh. The least he wants is to make Yuta think this is his fault. 

He tries to swallow down some of the blood pooling at his mouth so he can breathe again, but that’s hard to do, fingers clawing into Yuta’s suit some as he looks around again, or let’s his head loll, he doesn’t know anymore.

He thinks it must be a hallucination when he sees, very blurry and through his eyelashes, someone that resembles Johnny run into the room and close to them, followed by a smaller frame that could easily be Taeyong. They seem to yell something at someone outside the room, but he doesn’t know.

Ten doesn’t know anymore, so he lets himself be wrapped by the warmth.

Ten doesn’t know anymore, and that’s when everything fades to black.

  
  


* * *

  
  


The last thing he saw, before passing out, was black. 

The first thing he sees, before regaining consciousness, is white.

The dazzling lights above make him blink a few times, trying to adjust to the brightness of the room he finds himself in, so luminous it nearly gives him an instant headache. He realizes he’s laying down on a bed and he tries moving but it hurts, as if there was a pressure on his chest that wouldn’t let him get up, no matter how hard he tried to. It feels like he’s been shoved hard enough to have the air knocked out of him, so he takes small breaths before trying to move again.

Once he’s adjusted to the light, Ten finally opens his eyes and looks around the room.

Its walls are simply cream– not peeling or dirty, just cream. There is no decoration at all save the limp green curtain that separates his bed from whatever is on the other side and, at the far end, are windows in gray metal frames, only openable at the top. Ten notices the strand of an intravenous drip attached to his hand, and he follows it until he can see the monitor next to him, and a small table with rubber gloves, hand sanitizer and soap on top.

But what stands out to him the most is the body, sitting down on a small chair next to his bed, holding one of Ten’s hands and resting his head against the mattress as he sleeps peacefully.

Yuta.

That’s how it all comes back to him like a wave on the sea.

The resort. The charity. The port. The Boss.

The bullet to his chest.

It makes Ten sigh as he remembers that thanks to that The Boss got away. He thinks that, if he had been quicker, if he had been smarter, he could’ve prevented all of this. He could’ve fought him, make him confess, and arrest him right there and then.

Instead, he’d gotten shot, and an annoyingly arrogant criminal was still out there on the loose.

It made his blood boil.

Next to him, Yuta sucks in a deep breath, his hand squeezing Ten’s almost like an instinct. Ten squeezes back, feeling his heart rate come down to it’s regular beating. At least Yuta’s safe. They can work together again and get him next time, he thinks.

The thought, along with the touch, seems to call for him, because Yuta’s eyes flutter open then, and he frowns slightly at the sight of Ten staring back at him.

“... Hi,” the younger tests.

Yuta nearly falls off his chair. “Ten!” he screams, springing up from his seat like he’s been ejected from it. He takes a few steps back until his back hits the curtain, and Ten wonders who is he talking to when he peeks outside and yells, “He’s awake! He’s fine! He’s awake!”

Immediately, there’s three more people rushing in, all of them with relieved looks on their faces as they see him up on the bed and staring wide-eyed.

Johnny is the first to speak. “Thank God you’re awake because I want to fucking kill you myself,” he threatens, but the way he rushes towards Ten to wrap him in a big bear hug tells otherwise.

It hurts just slightly, but Ten allows it to happen because of what Taeyong says next.

“He was scared to death. After missing like seven of your calls we knew something must’ve gone wrong,” he says, walking closer to Ten and putting a hand on his shoulder. “We just didn’t know what or why.”

“You should’ve told us you were after a suspect,” Kun’s stern voice suddenly speaks. He’s standing in front of the bed, arms folded over his chest. It seems like he wants to look angry, but the relief is obvious on his features. “I would expect this from Yuta, but you...” he shakes his head, sighing. “I’m just glad he missed.”

Ten furrows his brows. “Missed?”

A slap to the back of his head makes him wince. Johnny looks down at him angrily. “The bullet. It missed your heart by less than an inch.”

Oh. Ten didn’t think it’d be that serious.

He looks next to him at Yuta, who’s been awfully silent since he called them all in. He’s staring down at the floor like he’s scared to meet eyes with Ten, and even though the younger wants to say something to him, the presence of his teammates in front of him make him want to do something first.

“I’m sorry he got away,” he mumbles out, staring down at his fingers over the white sheets. Everyone in the room gives each other a peculiar look Ten doesn’t understand, but that he interprets as silent disappointment. “Were we at least right about the port?”

Taeyong nods. “A high-speed craft docked at the port, just as you’d heard on day one and Yuta found on the computer. Both our teams were sent, and Mark and Doyoung intercepted it,” he explains. “They found 5.7 tons of illegal drugs inside, valued at 1 billion won. They laundered that money through the shell charities Johnny uncovered, and I found out they even bought the ferry with one of those accounts, those dumbasses,” he scoffs, shaking his head a little.

“That’s good,” Ten attempts to smile, but the regret of not getting the criminal mind behind it all still stings at him. “Next time we’ll get him,” he turns to Yuta, looking for his eyes. When he finds them, he’s stranged to find something like compassion in them. “Right? We’ll work harder and we’ll get him. I promise.”

Yuta awkwardly clears his throat. “... There won’t be a next time, Ten.”

He must’ve heard that wrong.

Ten blinks a few times, looks around the four men standing in front of him. “... What do you mean there won’t be a next time? Kun?” he asks, growing alarmed. Kun shakes his head no, expressionless. It makes blood drain from Ten’s body, and he immediately sits down on the bed, wincing as he does so. “What the fuck? You can’t pull us out of the case because of this one setback. We were so close, we were almost there. We can get him if we have a next time.”

The senior officer takes a deep breath. “Ten…”

“Who are you even going to put in charge? _Doyoung?_ ” he spits out, and even though he’s trying to sound annoyed, it sounds more like he’s pleading. “We are your best agents, you can’t just take this away from us.”

Kun raises a hand to try and calm Ten down. “Ten, listen–”

“It was my fault,” the younger says, voice getting desperate. Everyone in the room stares at him like they don’t know what he’s talking about, so he continues. “Yuta did everything according to plan this time, I can assure you of that. It was my fault he went into that room, it was my fault he got caught, it was my fault The Boss ran away. Punish me, take my badge, take my gun, I don’t care,” he turns to Yuta, an apologetic look in his eyes. They’ve started stinging, but he fights against the need to cry so he can still speak. “But please don’t pull Yuta out of the case. He’s been working on it for so long, he’s made so much progress, he’s so good…” Ten looks back at Kun, swallows his pride. “Please give him a next time.”

“Ten, I can’t–”

“For fuck’s sake, Kun, get your head out of the Sergeant’s ass for once and–”

“Yongqin, shut the _fuck_ up and listen. That’s an order,” Kun explodes, using a tone he’d never used with Ten before. But then again, Ten had never really disrespected him like that before. 

He commands for respect, and it makes the younger lay back on the bed, lips pursed and breath coming out heavy. Yuta, Johnny and Taeyong all freeze in place, and it’s pretty obvious they all wish they were somewhere else.

Kun runs a hand through his face. “There won’t be a next time because we don’t _need_ a next time,” he says, slowly, trying to keep his composure. “We got him. The Boss has been captured.”

It feels like the heaviest of weights has been lifted from Ten’s shoulders. “... What?”

“You think I’m an idiot?” the senior officer fumes. He’s not necessarily demanding for an answer, so Ten has to bite back his tongue not to give one. “I would never, _ever,_ leave my men alone near the end of a mission, not when I know how dangerous it can get. After you two discovered the shipment arriving the port and I gave orders to head there, I sent a backup team to the resort anyway. I always have backup prepared,” he grumbles, looking at the agent beside Ten’s bed. “Especially considering Yuta was in charge of the mission.”

Taeyong tries and fails to prevent the smile that appears on his face. Yuta shoots him a dirty look.

“We couldn’t answer your calls because we were already at the resort, evacuating people,” Johnny chimes in, looking to ease down the tension in the room. “By the time you’d gotten shot and Yuta called me, we were already running upstairs to look for you two. After seeing us, The Boss tried to escape, and that’s how we knew it was him. Winwin got him, shot him in the foot.”

“Kun took charge of arresting him and sending him away, and then we brought you to the hospital to get treated,” Taeyong finishes, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. “We don’t need another mission because it’s over. The case has been solved. You did it.”

If they repeat that, Ten is sure he’s going to pass out.

He’s still dumbfounded and confused when Johnny and Taeyong break into cheerful congratulations and proud pats in the back, thanking both Ten and Yuta for their hard work. They tell the younger he should rest for now, and that they should go out and celebrate as soon as he gets better, and then they’re saying goodbye and stepping out of the room.

Even Kun tells them a small _Good job_ before fixing down his suit and disappearing behind the curtain, saying something about getting a nurse to check on Ten now that he’s up and awake.

And then it’s just him and Yuta, and the room is as quiet as it used to be before Ten regained consciousness.

Yuta makes an attempt to start some conversation. “... How are you feeling?” his voice is soft and steady, and Ten recognizes it to be the one he used back inside their hotel room when he was comforting him.

Ten swallows, then inhales sharply. “Like I’ve just been hit by a fucking bus.”

The older huffs out a small smile, shaking his head a little.

Silence falls back over the room and in between them, both taking a few more seconds to process everything that happened within the past week– getting to the resort, working together, gathering all that intel, sneaking into all those rooms. Meeting people, dancing together, eating together. Pretending to be in love.

Then actually falling in love.

It’s awfully cheesy, and it makes Yuta’s ears grow red.

“... Why did you do it?” he asks, almost whispers. It’s a question he’s been asking himself ever since he heard the gunshot but didn’t feel it, ever since he had Ten’s blood staining his hands.

Ten looks back down, head dropping as he fiddles with his fingers aimlessly. He shrugs. “You know how they say that, in order to know if you love someone, you have to ask yourself if you’d take a bullet for them?”

Yuta lets out a sad laugh. “Yeah, you have to _ask_ yourself, dumbass, not actually do it,” he mumbles, voice only slightly shaking. A dark thought casts a shadow over his face, and he walks closer to Ten to hold his hand. “If something worse had happened to you…” he shakes his head, gulps down through the knot on his throat.

Ten softly interlocks his fingers with Yuta’s, something he had grown used to in the past couple of days. “I’m okay, baby” he reassures, squeezing the other’s hand tightly to comfort him. Yuta’s eyebrows shot up at the use of the pet name. “And everything turned out great, I mean… Holy shit, we did it,” Ten says breathlessly. 

Yuta nods, his usual bright smile making an appearance. “We actually did it.” 

He can’t hold back anymore.

Ten pulls Yuta’s hand towards him to make him lean downward, and he places a lingering, deep kiss on his smiling lips.

It’s soft, the softest they’ve ever shared, but it’s easily the best one yet. Ten’s lips are chapped and his bones are aching and he can still taste the metallic tang of blood, but he doesn’t care because all he can focus on is how happy he feels right this instant.

All he can focus on is Yuta, on how natural it feels to kiss him, on how soft his hair is under his fingers and how their lips begin to move in perfect sync, slowly, cautiously. Ten exhales through his nose, not wanting to let go.

When they pull away, they stare at each for a couple of seconds, thinking of how did it ever come to this. The very clear image of them hating each other’s guts bubbles up in the older’s mind, but now it’s different– now he has Ten, in front of him, looking into his eyes with such strong affection that it makes Yuta’s heart skip a bit. 

A delighted laugh slowly bursts out of him, to which Ten grins and leans forward again, kissing him fully and silencing his laughter.


End file.
